


Be The One You Bleed

by roseforthethorns



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Angst, Attempted Murder, Banter, Explicit Sex, F/M, Fantasy AU, Flirting, Growing Up, Hand Jobs, King!James, M/M, M/M/M, Mage!Q, Magic, Medieval England, Minor Character Death, Q keeps forgetting what it means to be human, Succubus, Swearing, Threesome, Vampire Feeding, Vampire!Q, parental loss, suggestions of sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-07-28 22:00:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7658326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseforthethorns/pseuds/roseforthethorns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set back in Medieval England, James Bond takes the throne after his parents die, but there's more danger in his court than even he suspects. During the celebration of his coronation, a young traveler arrives: a strange man with pale skin named Q...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Sorcerer's Apprentice

**Author's Note:**

> The title is taken from the lyrics of the song "Twilight" by Red Jumpsuit Apparatus:
> 
> "And go!  
> Just make me your vampire!  
> In this twilight,  
> I wanna be the one you need,  
> Be the one you bleed."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone starts somewhere. Q is from a poor farming family in England in the 1200s.
> 
> The first chapter is something of a prologue, detailing how Q came to be both a mage (wizard) and a vampire.

In hindsight, the ability to make the cows give blue milk should not have been something for Quinn to be proud of.

All his father had said was to milk the cows. One simple job. Milk the cows and bring back the pails full, but, as with so many of his chores, Quinn grows bored quickly and decides to try what he’s recently begun to discover. When he thinks hard enough about something, really properly focuses on it, he can make things happen.

***

Living in a small village in the middle of England is not the best place to have strange things happen and rumors flying around; sooner or later, everyone knows everything, whether you want them to or not. There are only a few hundred people living near Quinn’s childhood home, but everyone knows everyone else, and people are always in each other’s business. The town gossip is almost as common as people dying from plague. Many of those rumors concern Quinn and his family.

His mother had given birth to him during a frightful thunderstorm that destroyed several houses in the village, and then to have such a pale, sickly little boy with the most striking green eyes and dark brown hair. To have him grow into scrawny slip of a boy barely fit for any kind of field work? To have strange occurrences follow him like a disease? No, everyone in the village agrees that Quinn Georgeson is a strange boy.

His best friend in the village, a lad named Peter, told him that he heard from his mum that Quinn was cursed and should have been left to the forest when he was born. The tailor and blacksmith give Quinn nasty looks when he run errands for his parents. Other villagers and many of the children give him a wide berth. None of them trust him. He doesn’t blame them anymore, not really. Not when he knows what he can do.

He discovers his talent when he is little and can’t control it. The weather had been getting colder very quickly, and his father was worried they would lose some of the animals to the threatening snows. Not only did they not lose any animals that year, but their food supplies don’t run out either. Quinn’s mother thanks God for the miracle, but his father isn’t so sure because one of the cows that had been almost dead is now fully healed and healthy. Dying animals don’t just recover like that.

Sometimes, his gift isn’t so helpful, like when he is racing Peter after just meeting him and the other boy, about to win, twists his ankle and sprawls to the dirt with no rocks or holes in the way to trip him. Quinn wins the race but runs back to the other boy when he realizes he’s injured. He and Peter managed to stay friends afterward, but the other boy is always a little warier of Quinn from then on.

Other times? Well, other times his gift for “unnatural luck” helps tremendously. The other boys in the village torment Quinn until they all come down with something resembling the plague at the same time, and while the bullies don’t die, they all take several weeks to properly recover. Quinn’s family never gets sick, their animals only die of old age, and they never lose any of their crops to the frost. His father is lucky to sell anything in the village anymore, but the older Quinn gets, it’s harder to sell in other villages too. Because of the rumors that no one can prove. Yet.

Because everyone agrees that something is wrong with Quinn. Too many weird and inexplicable things happen when he’s around.

***

Twelve summers old now, and Quin is horribly bored milking the cows. So he looks at the full pail and begins to focus. He’s holding his hands out with his fingers splayed, and then suddenly he can feel the heat pooling in his belly, the way it does before he deliberately uses his gift. The milk shimmers and turns the color of bluebells in spring.

Quinn is proud for all of five seconds before realizing there is no way he can hide this or explain it away. Panic stricken, he grabs the other pail, trying desperately to squeeze another drop of milk from a cow that, moments before, had milk to spare. Now only air hits the bottom of the pail, and the boy fights back a tremor of fear.

“Well? What are you waiting for, boy? Change it back.”

Quinn whips around and falls off the milking stool. An old man is standing in the doorway, wrapped in a heavy travelling cloak and leaning on a thick walking stick. His hair is going silver at the sides, though he’s completely bald on top, and his eyes are like shiny stones Quinn sometimes brings back from the bottom of the nearby stream. Something about the man makes him want to hide, so he picks himself up and stares back at the stranger. _Show no fear_. “I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Can’t. I don’t know how.”

“Well you clearly knew what you were doing when you turned it blue. You must have had an end game in mind. So reverse it.”

Quinn looks back at the pale, shaking, face red with shame at being caught. “Please don’t tell my parents-”

“How are you going to explain the blue milk, boy?

“I-I don’t know. I’ll figure it out.”

“Time’s ticking. I can’t imagine they’ll leave you on your own much longer, especially this close to sunset.”

The boy turns to look back at the milk, and very aware of the stranger, he sits back down and stretches his fingers out. _Go back, turn back, stop being blue, turn back to white_.

Heat surges down his arms and the milk changes again, reverting to the way milk is supposed to look. Suspiciously, Quinn tastes it; it tastes just like milk. Relief floods his body, and it takes a great amount of focus not to slump on the stool.

“Just as I thought. Extraordinary.”

Quinn brings himself to his full height and turns around. He barely comes up to the stranger’ shoulder. “Who are you?”

“Just a man passing through, curious about the rumors of witchcraft. And instead of an old hag, I find a young boy with quite a gift.” Suddenly, the man doesn’t look so old; he straightens up, the air around him crackling, and it takes everything within Quinn not to shrink back at the sheer amount of power rolling off the man.

“You’re like me. You can do what I can.”

“Only I have far more experience and practice.” He holds out his hand, lips twitching as he regards the boy in front of him. “The name’s Merlin.”

Quinn shakes his hand, hissing as he feels like he’s been shocked. “You came here to find me?”

“I’m here to offer you a chance at an apprenticeship. As far as your family will be concerned, you’ll be learning your letters and receive training to eventually work in the court. But between us… you’ll receive training in your gift. How to control it, hone it. How to be a proper mage like me.”

“Will my family be all right if I leave?”

“They’ll continue out their lives normally, yes. They may have to work a little harder to cover the chores you usually complete.”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

“Your protection over this house and land is very strong. As long as you are alive, they should be well.”

Quinn nods and picks up the pail of milk. “Merlin, right?” The old man nods, once again just an old man leaning heavily on his walking stick. “Follow me.”

***

“Take the boy, then. We’ll be well shod of him.”

“George-”

“He’s been nothing but trouble since he was born, Anne. But at least this way he’s out of our hair and not a total waste to society. And we’ll be rid of his strange habits. And the things that happen when he’s around. I’ll be able to sell in the village again.”

On some level, Quinn had expected the stream of vitriol from his father. The man’s ruddy complexion now only serves to highlight exactly what he thinks of his eldest son. He points at Quinn like he’s a stray that little Maggie would sometimes bring home, only to be told it had to go. The boy has no problem with this, and gathering up his few belongings takes no time at all. He turns around to return to Merlin’s side when he sees the man hand his father a small bag; the clinking sound inside tells him everything he needs to know.

“Ready to go, boy?”

“My name is Quinn,” says Quinn, stubbornly and still staring at the bag of coins.

The old man’s lip twitches in something like a smirk as he gestures toward the door with his walking stick. “Well, go on then.”

Quinn squares his shoulders and walks out of his childhood home without looking back.

***

“Ow!” The boy sits up, rubbing at the lump that’s begun to swell by his temple. “Did you have to swing that so hard?”

“You’re supposed to be practicing defensive spells, boy. Again.”

Quinn groans and stands, rubbing his head and the elbow that had absorbed the rest of the fall. “I’m trying! But you raise your stick and I know it’s going to hurt.”

Merlin eyes sparkle with a moment of amusement before returning to cold and flinty stone, impossible to read. “Well then, that’s your issue, boy. If you focus on the potential for failure, that’s all you’ll ever be.” The mage leans his staff against the wall and strides over to Quinn, adjusting his posture. “Remember, _you_ are the center of your own power. Visualize your magic surrounding you. You’re constantly surrounded by what’s called an aura. That’s mostly what you manipulate for protection spells. Visualize it hardening, protecting you, absorbing the blow.”

Quinn obeys, and within seconds, his arm is glowing faintly; when Merlin tries to strike the glowing spot, his hand just bounces away. “I did it!”

“You did, boy,” Merlin chuckles, retrieving his stick. “Now, see how long you can keep it strong.”

***

“So… so there are magics that focus just on energy while there are others that use things like water and fire?”

“Those would be elemental magics, boy. And yes. Some mages are more proficient in those areas than with just energetic manipulation. If you have even half the talent I suspect, you may be able to master one elemental magic. Your energy manipulation still needs work. Spend the afternoon with levitation and teleportation. Use the rocks and the cushions, and please try to avoid breaking anything valuable this time. I don’t have the time to replace another vial of snake venom.”

***

“Why do you always call me ‘boy’? Why not by my name?”

“Because, _boy_ , names have power. There’s great power in words as well, or have you not been paying attention to anything I’ve taught you in the last six months?”

“I’ve been listening! I-I was just curious.”

“To tell a spirit your name, or any other magical being for that matter, means they could have some modicum of power or control over you. To know something’s true name is to be able to unmake it.”

Quinn nods slowly, ignoring the curls of fear in his stomach. “So… So Merlin isn’t your real name then.”

“Well spotted, boy.”

“Can I choose what I want to be called?”

“Of course.”

“Then I’m Q.”

The old mage’s lip curls ever so slightly. “All right then, _Q_. Levitation spells. _Carefully_!”

***

“Merlin, why haven’t you taught me how to scry yet?”

“Because you aren’t ready. You haven’t finished reading the books and mastering the basic spells. Scrying without a proper focus can let others see you, not just let you observe them.”

“So theoretically it can go both ways?”

“Scrying opens a window for you to see something far away, in simple terms. Any time you open a window, or a door for that matter, it can be used both ways if you aren’t ready. Besides, the more chaotic your own emotional state, the less control you’ll have. Many mages practice for ten years of more in order to scry effectively. You’ve barely been here two years. How did you know about it anyway?”

“I finished the books you assigned me and I was browsing through the other volumes when you went out earlier.”

Q knows when the mage’s face goes deliberately blank, it means he’s surprised, possibly even a little bit pleased. He’s progressing and he knows it.

***

“No, not like that.”

“I just changed how I was working on it from before and it’s still not right?”

“Control your temper, boy. Exhale and try again.”

“What’s the point? You’ll just tell me what I’m doing wrong.”

“Unless you do it correctly. Fix your focus and try again.”

“You know, letting me rest between exercises might help improve my concentration.”

“Are you telling me you’re too lazy to be an effective mage?”

“No, no Merlin that’s not-”

“Again. Do it right this time.”

***

“Merlin, why did you take me on as an apprentice? Was it just for my aptitude?”

The wizard sighs from where he stands preparing their supper for the evening: simple bread, cheese, and fruit. “I’m older than I look, boy. I’m pushing two hundred years now and I need someone who will be able to carry on what I know after I’m gone… I had an apprentice long ago, though he wasn’t studying magic. He focused on the theory insomuch as it pertained to ruling and diplomacy. I don’t want to fail again… not like I failed with him.”

Q sits at the table, staring at the mage. “Why are you telling me this now, not any of the other times I’ve asked?”

“Because tomorrow you turn sixteen, boy. You’ll come into your full power and you need to be ready. Because I grow wearier with every passing day. Because eventually you must return to the world.” The mage brings their food over to the table and sits slowly, old joints creaking. “You’ve progressed faster than I ever anticipated, in spite of your stubborn streak,” he chuckles. “And you’ll need to make your way in the world soon. And tomorrow you come of age. Soon I won’t be able to teach you anymore. You’ll need to travel, see the world and learn from others where you can.”

“But why?”

“Inquisitive brat. Because if you only have one teacher your entire life, you’ll learn a very limited amount.”

“So tomorrow you’re just turning me out?”

“No. I turn you out when you’re eighteen. Tomorrow I teach you scrying.”

“So-so then-why all this talk of coming of age and having to travel?”

“Because it’s just too easy to fuck with you sometimes. But you will have to travel eventually. I want you prepared for when that day comes.”

***

The day he turns eighteen is the day Q finally leaves Merlin’s home to travel the world and learn all he can. He’s grown in the six years he’s studied with the man, so much so that his family back home probably wouldn’t recognize him at first. No longer is he a scrawny, gangly little boy. Now Q is a tall young man, still with that mop of dark hair and the shockingly bright green eyes. There’s not much to say as Merlin wraps his apprentice in a worn travelling cloak and hands him his very own walking stick. The mage, in all Q’s years of learning from him, is not very strong with emotional moments. So Q just smiles and gives him a hug before turning and walking out the door.

He takes five steps before stopping and turning around to wave, but the house has vanished; only the faintest shimmer in the air hints that it’s simply disguised to prevent unwanted visitors. Shaking his head in a way that can only be described as fond, Q heads out into the world. “Seeking my fortune indeed,” he muses. He slings his satchel with his food, money, and a few small spell books over his shoulder and begins to walk.

***

_Four Years Later_

Q sits in the corner of the inn, sipping his ale and nibbling on a piece of cheese while he watches the room. He catches snippets of conversations in Romanian, focusing on his ears and casting a simple spell to allow him to peak and understand the language. He wrinkles his nose a little as his comprehension improves dramatically. All the conversations are so mundane, so dull or innocent, hardly worth his time. He raises his tankard in a silent toast to himself. “Twenty-two summers,” he murmurs in his native English before draining the last of the golden liquid.

“Are you alone?”

A heavily accented voice startles him out of his isolation, and he finds himself looking up… into the face of a very handsome man. The newcomer looks around thirty with shoulder length black hair and steely grey eyes that, far from being intimidating, are more like two deep pools of promise. The man’s lips twitch, almost smirking at Q’s sudden stunned silence. The young mage quickly stands and offers his hand. “No, I’m not. I’m Q,” he adds in flawless Romanian as the other man shakes his hand firmly; Q cocks an eyebrow at how cool and soft the man’s skin is before dismissing it. The weather has been frightfully cold of late. “Would you like to sit?”

“Thank you,” the man replies in English, furthering Q’s confusion. He could have sworn the man spoke to him in Romanian just a second before, but it could be his translation spell. Shaking himself, Q focuses on the other man, trying to read him. His clothes are quite well made and handsome, deep reds with gold accents that flatter his strong frame.

“May I ask your name since you know mine already?”

“Vlad,” the newcomer responds, inclining his head slightly. “Vlad Dracul.”

“What brings you here?”

“I don’t leave home very often and I heard there was a beautiful young man visiting this village. I thought I would come and meet him. You’re English, no?”

“I am. I’m taking advantage of an opportunity to travel, see more of the world than I might otherwise.”

“And how are you enjoying these adventures?”

“Enlightening.”

Vlad smiles and looks Q over. “Why don’t you stay at mine tonight instead of this inn? I could offer you the hospitality of Romanian nobility.”

The young mage raises an eyebrow, skeptical and hesitant to trust the man, no matter how must he clearly wants to get to know Q _better_ … “I wouldn’t want to impose-”

“It is hardly an imposition. It would be free lodgings and a chance for me to escort a visitor around my country.”

Something isn’t quite right. Q’s instincts are screaming at him to run, and usually he listens, but the longer he stares into Vlad’s eyes, the more curious he is. He can always use magic to protect himself. It’s only one night.

“All right.”

***

It takes an hour to reach Vlad’s castle by carriage, but Q spends the whole ride talking with the man, asking him about Romania and about local lore. “I’m something of an enthusiast for folk tales,” he explains when the nobleman raises an eyebrow. “I heard all kinds of strange tales in France and Germany, from a girl and a glass slipper to a princess asleep for one hundred years.”

“Well, there is one. Have you ever heard of a creature called vampyr?”

Q frowns slightly, trying to make out the word. “A-a vampire? I think the owner of the last inn said something about it. I wanted to take an evening walk and she all but locked me in my room, babbling about the danger.”

“That is because the vampyr is a creature of the night, a being that feeds on the blood of the living. If a human exchanges blood with one, he will transform, dying to be reborn into a new life. But the vampyr can just as easily drain the human, drinking every last drop of blood from his body and leaving the carcass for the wolves.”

“Does he have any weaknesses? As a creature of darkness, I would guess light is a problem.”

“Indeed. Along with wood and fire. A stake through the heart reduces a vampyr to dust. Stand too long in the sun and one would burn. But even with this, the vampyr has power. He can disguise himself as shadow, he can fly, he can scale buildings easily. His physical strength is magnified tenfold. He can charm the mind of any human he pleases. He even has some power over dogs and wolves.”

Q looks out the window of the carriage, watching the landscape fly by in the final glow of the sun below the horizon and finds he doesn’t want to be caught outside in the dark. “Are we almost there?”

“Nearly.” Vlad shakes off his heavy, dark cloak, and Q notices how pale the man is, so pale he nearly glows in the darkness, and it clicks. The story and his own apprehension, why things feel off but he can’t name them.

“It’s not just a story. It’s _you_.”

“Clever boy.” Vlad grins at him, and Q watches in horror and amazement as two sharp fangs descend from his teeth. He blinks, looking again and curiosity wins out.

“Your canines elongate?”

“When hungry or aroused.”

“Why are you telling me all this?”

“Because young Q, I am going to bestow this gift upon you.” He reaches out, running his finger along Q’s cheekbone, and the young man flinches slightly. Vlad withdraws his hand, looking paler by the second. “When I saw your skin, I thought you were one of us, but then I realized you were only human. A human so beautiful, too fragile, too easily broken. I can offer you immortality. Eternal youth and beauty. A chance to grow stronger with every passing year. Speed beyond your imagining. I didn’t mention how fast you’ll be able to run when you’re vampyr. This is a _gift_. And it won’t hurt.”

“Having my body drained of blood won’t hurt?” Q snaps, working as hard as he can to stay calm while he thinks of a way out… but why would he want to escape? He blinks, shaking his head a little bit. No, that was definitely his own thoughts. He could have so much more time to learn and study and perfect his magic. He could travel more… “Why doesn’t it hurt?”

“Because to drink blood is an intimate act.”

Q’s shiver has nothing to do with the carriage and everything to do with the unbridled lust on Vlad’s face. “Are you sure you mean to turn me? This isn’t a lie to try and trap an innocent man?”

“Were you paying attention to how the other villagers behaved in the inn around me? None of them touched me or looked my way. They didn’t focus on me because you were the one I was there for. They fear me but don’t know what I look like, and when they see me, all they know is that I’m dangerous. They truly fear the story. They fear Dracula.”

***

Dying isn’t what Q expects at all.

Vlad (or Dracula, as he now thinks of the man) is very gentle. He helps Q shave off his travel beard, washes his body gently. It’s almost what Q thinks having a lover would be like, only lovers don’t usually drink each other’s blood. He dresses Q in a simple white nightshirt and brings him to his bedroom. Dracula lives in obvious style, the huge canopied four poster bed taking up most of the floor space. The vampire lays Q down on the bed before sitting next to him.

“Drinking blood, as I told you, is intimate. It feels good, much like the carnal pleasures of this world.” He strokes a finger down Q’s cheek, and this time, the young mage doesn’t shy away. “You might get hard, in fact I could be insulted if you didn’t,” the older man teases.

“I’m not completely innocent. I just haven’t had much company other than my hand in several months. And I haven’t been with men much either.”

“Still so young, so much to learn.”

“How old are you, then?”

The vampire smirks, showing his teeth. “Nearly one hundred and fifty.” Q’s eyes widen in surprise. So old? But he still looks young. Dracula pulls Q’s sleep shirt open, baring the skin of his neck. He leans close, licking up the skin and tasting Q’s skin. “Such a beautiful thing,” he purrs before sinking his fangs into the skin and flesh where Q’s neck and shoulder meet.

Q gasps sharply at the initial pain of the punctures, but in a matter of seconds, the pain shifts into what he can only describe as overwhelming pleasure. He can feel one of Dracula’s arms holding him steady, hand gripping his shoulder, while the vampire’s other hand slides down his body, teasing. The mage doesn’t mind that he’s in terrible danger, that the creature above him could lose control. He feels nothing but peace and arousal’s fire.

After a few moments, Dracula sits back, lips blood red and teeth stained as well. He reaches up and scores a cut along his own collarbone, and Q’s eyes are drawn to how the blood wells up at the cut and slowly trickles down the older creature’s skin. Dracula guides Q’s mouth to the cut, and the mage begins to drink. The blood tastes almost like wine, but it’s no wine he’s ever tasted before. It’s sweet and rich, and he’s gulping it down eagerly. He doesn’t realize that he’s rutting against Dracula’s leg or that the vampire’s hand is on him. He drinks until his stomach threatens to burst, and the vampire drag Q up for a kiss, his hand moving quickly; Q comes apart in his arms with a cry of pleasure just as Dracula bites him again, drinking until he can only taste his blood in the boy’s veins.

Q’s eyes are drifting closed, his breathing and heart slowing. The vampire lowers him to the bed and presses a bloody kiss to Q’s forehead. He leans down one last time and licks the wound on Q’s neck to close it. “Sleep and wake _vampyr_.”

***

It’s nearly a year later when Q returns to England from his travels abroad. He’s still pale, though now that’s less about the fact that he sunburns easily and more about the fact that the sun could literally set him on fire. His protection spells are starting to work, but it’s taking time to build a spell strong enough to counteract the fire in the sky. Once he has them fully in place, he’ll be able to walk freely in the sun. But until then, he improvises, using gloves to protect his hands and a heavy travelling cloak to keep him in the shade.

He returns to Merlin’s first, heading straight there the moment he sets foot on England’s shores. Q knocks and lets himself in, memories swarming him as soon as he sets his eyes on the dim room (not dim anymore. His night vision is unparalleled now). “Merlin? You still alive?” He pulls back the hood on his cloak and looks around. “Merlin?” It’s too quiet, and come to think of it, way too dark-

“Get. _Back_.”

The vampire spins around to see Merlin brandishing a torch at him. And a wooden stake. The mage’s eyes are glowing too with an almost unnatural light. “Merlin, it’s me-”

“What have I told you time and again, _boy_? To be careful? To use good judgement? And you allow yourself to be turned into this _thing_? To die?”

“What-Merlin, what are you-”

But Merlin brandishes the torch and Q leaps back father and faster than any human can. He sees the anguish in his master’s eyes before they harden. There used to be love there, exasperated pride. Now there’s only ice, and Q feels like the stake has already pierced his heart.

“Get out, thing. Never return here. Get out!” Merlin shoots the stake at Q, but the mage deflects it, sending it into the dirt. The old wizard screams a command and blows hard on the torch.

Suddenly, the fire is everywhere. The books, the house, everything is burning. Q scrambles for the door, shoving towards it with his hand and blasting it off its hinges. He pulls his cloak around him and dives out into the evening light. Only after checking to make sure he’s only singed and not burned, Q turns around.

Merlin’s house is visible now, and it’s burning. The smoke is black and billowing, then blue, then blood red, then black again, and the acrid smell of burning flesh is thick in the clearing. Chest aching where his heart used to beat, Q turns from the wreckage to head back to his childhood village. The last stop before, he knows, he has to disappear.

***

Q stands in the charred remains of his old home, trying for tears that just won’t come. This should never have happened. He should have been here. He could have stopped this.

Bandits had come through the village barely two days before his arrival and burned everything to the ground. They carried off some of the women, slain most of the men, left many of the children behind. One of the boys is willing to talk to him, to point him in the direction of his old home.

“Plague took the children six months back. Bandits did the rest.”

His protection spell should have kept them _safe_. And then Merlin’s words from a decade before ring in his ears, clear as if the old man were standing next to him.

_“Your protection over this house and land is very strong. As long as you are alive, they should be well.”_

This is all his fault. He chose to die in order to transform, and the moment his heart ceased beating, the protection over his family failed. Q may as well have lowered the executioner’s axe as well.

He’s an orphan. He’s an immortal creature. He’s a mage. And all he wants to do is cry for a family that never even wanted him in the first place.

***

Dracula hears the knock on the door several times before he answers it, wary of unannounced visitors until he sees Q there on the steps. The boy looks horrible, covered in mud, twigs and leaves in his hair. His eyes are haunted and empty, and it makes the old vampire shiver a little.

“I have nowhere else to go.”

He ushers the boy inside, making up his mind to bring back enough villagers for a feast. Q looks far to pale and thin. “Stay as long as you need. I’ll bring you dinner while you bathe.”

“They’re all dead. My family, my teacher, all of them. And it’s all my fault.”

Dracula closes the heavy door and pulls Q into a crushing hug. “I’ve got you. Not all your family is dead, little one.” He tilt’s Q’s chin up until the green eyes lock onto his own grey ones. “I’m here for you.”

After all, family looks out for one another. And Dracula is the only family Q has anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my FC for Dracula is Luke Evans from "Dracula Untold." I think I've taken liberty with his eye color. I've also had Vlad III living way earlier than he did historically. I can only claim artistic license. I wanted him to be the one to turn Q and be there for the poor man.
> 
> The next chapter will fast forward to when James is a young prince in England.


	2. Nothing But Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Alec are thick as thieves, even as children. When they grow up, that doesn't change one bit.

_England, 1430. 200 years later…_

 

“You can’t catch me!”

“Try me. I’m faster than you!”

“But I’m taller, so I can catch you! And older than you!”

“Hah! Two summers is nothing! I know this place better than Father! And better than you!” James grins and skids around the corner, running full tilt as fast as his eight-summer-old legs will carry him, Alec not far behind. Discovering that he could distract his tutor with mead stolen from the kitchen has quickly allowed him to skip out on lessons to play with his best friend and future member of the King’s Guard; he’ll need to remember that if he wants to skip out again. The two of them have been thick as thieves since they learned how to talk, and James considers the other boy his brother; he has the scar on his palm to prove it.

_Alec pulls him into the gardens after tea and finds a secluded spot, a knife in his hand. “We’re gonna be blood brothers.”_

_“How?”_

_The older boy holds up the knife, blade glinting in the late afternoon light. “I cut your palm and my palm, and we clasp hands. It makes us blood brothers. I heard about it from one of the kids in the village the last time I left the castle.”_

_“Okay. Hurry, before people come find us.”_

_Alec takes James’s hand and makes the cut; the prince hisses but holds still, watching as the little line of red begins to trickle over his skin. He hears Alec grunt when he cuts his own palm, and the boys look up, locking eyes._

_“Ready?”_

_James nods and holds up his hand, swallowing a whimper at the sting when Alec clasps their cut palms together. “Brothers for life,”_

_“Brothers for life. Loyal and true?”_

_“By your side until we die.”_

The young prince takes a running jump onto the banister, riding it all the way down to the main hall; he sticks the landing, looking back to make sure Alec is still following him before heading down to the kitchens. The older boy catches up to him just before he reaches the stairs, dragging him back with a grin. “Gotcha.”

James smirks up at the boy, raising an eyebrow. “You sure?”

Alec looks down to see where James’s foot is perfectly positioned to knock him down. “Very clever,” he chuckles, letting his friend go and punching him in the arm. James punches him back and drags Alec down to raid the pantry for a snack before he gets dragged back to his lessons. Maybe they can climb out onto one of the parapets instead.

***

“Shhhhhh.”

“You shush. This is tricky.”

“Why?”

“If I drop it, it breaks, and I get thrashed.”

“No, they’ll thrash me if it breaks. They wouldn’t actually beat the prince.”

James manages to get the vase down off the pedestal, hefting it as he and Alec sneak it out of the room. “I think I preferred stealing sweets from the kitchens.”

“We’ll have plenty of time once we dump worms in Leiter’s bed.”

They bring the vase into the armory, filling it with walking sticks and trainee swords before sneaking back to the door again to find their buckets of worms.

“If we get caught-”

“We were just bringing these to… to the fishermen. Bait for their hooks.”

“Ohhhh you’re clever.”

“Clever enough to stay out of trouble?”

James and Alec freeze, turning around slowly to see the head of the armory, a rugged, bearded man named Kincade. “Uhhhhh… run!”

The man grabs both boys by the back collars of their shirts and drags them back into the armory. “Put the vase back and then you both get to help in here the rest of the day. Run and you’ll feel my cane on your backsides, the pair of you.”

***

“James, we need to have a little talk.”

The prince fights the urge to fidget as he looks up at his father. King Andrew studies his nine-summer-old son closely before taking off his crown and setting it on the table. He kneels down to be closer to his son’s height and chucks him affectionately under the chin. “Your tutors tell me you’re skipping lessons, running off with Trevelyan. According to Kincade, you’re both causing quite a bit of trouble.”

“Alec and I are friends… and lessons are boring. They’re never about anything interesting. And we get to explore the castle instead! Which I should know perfectly if I’m gonna be king.”

“Do you know why you need lessons? To study your letters? Your history, geography? Your languages? I know your mother has taught your French.”

“No. Why do I need to know it all?”

“It’s because one day, _you_ are going to be king, my boy. And when that day comes, you’ll need all those lessons in order to be a wise and just king.”

“Like you, father?”

Andrew smiles at his son. “Just like me, my boy.”

“But the lessons are still dull. It’s only me and it’s so easy to skip out. The teachers don’t have patience either,” he adds. His father eyes him carefully, clearly thinking. He always rubs his chin when he’s thinking about something particularly challenging or important.

“Maybe we could do something about that. Would a companion help? Someone to study with?”

James nods eagerly, biting his lip and hoping against hope at what his father is about to say. Because is he really this lucky?

“Perhaps I’ll speak to Mallory. Maybe he’ll be willing to split Trevelyan’s training for the guard and allow the boy to study with you.”

“Does that mean I could learn the sword with Alec? Then he could have _his_ lessons with me. It’s a… a…” He screws up his face, finding the word. “A compromise.”

His father grins and ruffles his son’s hair. “It really is impossible to separate the two of you, isn’t it.” James nods, and earns himself a kiss on the forehead. “I’ll see what I can do. A compromise indeed.”

***

James walks with Alec onto the main training ground, struggling a little under the weight of his leather practice armor. Even though they’ll be working with wooden swords, he knows how badly they can bruise. Alec’s had a fair few marks after coming back from training before. It’s not that James fears the pain. He just doesn’t want to be hopelessly bad at it. But the armor is making it difficult to move, and it’s _hot_ , and he’s feeling itchy, but he’s the one who asked for this. And it wouldn’t do to have a king who couldn’t defend himself.

Mallory meets them, a young man in his early twenties and the newest Captain of the Guard. He gives them both a once over to check their gear is on correctly before bringing out the practice swords. “Now. These are not sharp, but whack each other hard enough and you’ll get hurt easy enough. Alec, show me your stance… hmmmmm yes, that works. James, copy what he’s doing. Left foot forward, more weight forward, better.”

The lesson flies by, and though James has never picked up a sword before, he finds Alec and Mallory patient enough teachers. Though he would have liked to do more than just stand and hold the sword.

“Elbows up!” barks Mallory. “stronger stance, don’t just leave your right leg to do nothing. Forward, back, back, forward. Up, middle, down, AGAIN!”

***

“Very good. Elbows up, James. Lunge, block, Alec watch your side, nicely done!”

Three years of daily lessons have seen Alec and James both progress from wooden to dulled, metal blades. The clangs echo in the training courtyard as the boys almost dance around each other. James’s hair is kept short now, neat and tidy, but Alec refuses to properly cut his. The result is he keeps it swept back from his face, but it tends to drop into his eyes when wet or sweaty. Like right now when they’ve been sparring each other with blades for nearly an hour.

They put their training swords back and head into the castle where James always insists they bathe. He’s managed to convert Alec to his way of thinking by likening it to swimming. Only you dump the water over your head instead of heading to the river. He throws a towel at Alec and laughs at the older boy’s shout as it hits him in the face. “Oi! You prat!”

“Something you wanted, Alec?”

The older boy smirks and chases after James. “Just you wait until I get my hands on you.”

“Back to chases again? I thought you outgrew them!”

“Never with you, James.”

***

“No, no that’s not right. I got a lower number.”

“You sure you know how to count?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’re better than I at swords, but I’m far better at books.”

“Ugh, reading is dull. At least with fighting there’s a clear beginning and end. There’s no end to these bloody lessons.”

“Teacher always says there’s no end to how much we can learn, you know.”

“Hmmmm. Perhaps the lessons should be more practical.”

“How’s your French, then? Still a novice?”

“ _Casse-toi_.”

James smirks at his best friend. Sixteen and eighteen summers, him and Alec. “Suppose I deserved that one.”

“Fine, but let’s switch to something else. Oh! Have you seen the new serving girls? Beauties, the lot of them.”

“Clearly I haven’t, but you have.”

“What’s the matter? Not ready to wet your whistle?”

“I think I’d rather have another lesson from _you_ first before I try anything with them.”

“Find an empty chamber. _Now_.”

***

He’s nearly back to his bed.

The sun begins to creep over the horizon as he sneaks into the chamber and pulls the door to, crawling into his bed when-

“And where have you been all night?”

Alec starts guiltily and grins at eighteen-summers-old James. The prince is staring at him, leaning back against his own headboard with a wicked smirk. “Scullery maid?”

“She sang like a bird.”

“Oh you absolute twat! Why didn’t you bring me?”

“Because the little flower is quite a shy thing. To have the prince in her bed would quite simply have wrecked her before I began.”

“Is that because you know how easily I can wreck you when I put my mind to it?”

“You really think I can go again before the servants creep in to stoke up the fire?”

“Want to try?”

“Next time, bloody take me with you.”

***

The year James reaches his twenty-fourth summer, the queen falls ill. The young man adores his mother; he learned French at her breast when he was little, always came to her for reassurance that wall was, indeed, well. Even if he fell ill or found himself frustrated or injured, she was his rock. To have her pale, sickly, confined to her bed… it is terribly disconcerting.

Tanner, the castle apothecary, tries everything he knows. Every poultice of herbs, every concoction, potion, anything in all of his books to try and make her well. James spends every available hour at her bedside, Alec with him for many of them. When she’s conscious, she seems to know him, but not full grown. The graceful and poised Monique Delacroix Bond, queen of the realm, thinks her son is but a little boy once more.

When he realizes this, James leaves the room, head spinning with how this could have happened? Why is she sick? Will she live? Can she survive? It takes Alec dragging him into an empty chamber to shake him out of his mind and bring him back into reality. “James. Fucking listen to me. It will be _all right_.”

“She’s so sick. She’s even worse than Tanner thought. What are we going to do? Alec, she’s my _mum_.”

“Which is all the more reason for you to stay strong and stay focused. You have to do this. You know it. The prince cannot fall apart, and it’s my bloody job as your protector to make sure you hold it the fuck together. Understand?”

James nods before dropping his head to Alec’s shoulder with a dry sob. His friend wraps him in a tight, close hug. “It’s all right, James. It’ll be all right.”

***

“No, that isn’t good enough. We need a better answer from Spain. I will not go to war over a simple miscommunication.”

James sits in on council meetings more frequently now, part of his diplomatic training to take the crown when his time comes, and right now, Spain is up in arms over territorial waters of all things. They seem to pick fights over the tiniest details, just to stay at odds with his homeland. England blames Spain, and Spain blames England, a never-ending cycle.

“Tell them to send an envoy.”

“They don’t trust us.”

“Then that’s a problem, isn’t it? We need this to work, or it will be war and I know neither country wants that. We need diplomacy to work. Make it happen.”

“Sir?”

“What is it, M?”

“I’m not sure diplomatic action is the best course at this time. I think, given the circumstances, you need to be prepared for every eventuality. And that includes the possibility of war. I think it would be wise of you to add more men to the army and strengthen our defenses.”

Andrew nods, rubbing his chin while he thinks, something James is secretly very fond of. It’s so… his father.

“I’ll take it under advisement. Let me know as soon as we have word from Spain.”

“Absolutely, your highness.”

The white haired woman his father trusts is their oldest advisor. M has been with them all throughout King Andrew’s rule, and her advice is never taken lightly. She’s shrewd, calculating, cold almost, but she’s clever and understands how politics work. James has been studying with her for a few years now as his political education took precedence over everything else.

James rises from the table as everyone else does, watching his father leave with several of the other advisors. “Will he still go on the hunt tomorrow?”

M sighs and gathers her parchment. “I expect so. I have advised against it, but he needs… distraction. Your mother’s illness is hard on him as well, James. He wants her to get better every bit as much as you do.”

The prince nods and goes silent. “I’m afraid,” he murmurs to M. Alec is the only person he’s admitted that to out loud until this moment.

“Many are, James. It takes strength to not show it, to hide it. You need to be strong now. For your parents. For England.”

***

There’s a loud knock at the door, then men enter the room, soldiers, armor clinking. James startles out of sleep, scrambling to sit up. He hears Alec do the same in the bed next to him (he refuses to make Alec move into the adjoining room). But one look from the men lighting lamps and standing by the bed, he knows his childhood is now over. Their faces are grave and eyes downcast. He feels his stomach churn.

“What’s happened?” he asks, voice quiet but firm.

Mallory is the one who approaches, kneeling by James’s four poster bed. “We’re so sorry to wake you, your majesty, but since you went to bed… I’m so sorry to tell you this, but your parents are dead.”

Everything turns to white noise in James’s head, and he knows how wide and disbelieving his eyes are. If anyone speaks in that moment, he doesn’t hear them. He can’t focus, can’t even think. He doesn’t care. “How?” is all he manages with an even voice. His parents dead? They’d been alive that day. He’d hugged them, said goodbye to father before hunting, read to mother from her favorite French poems…

“Your mother died in her sleep shortly after sunset. Your father… he hunted a boar today and it gored him. We did what we could, but he was dead only moments later.” The Captain of the Guard looks like he may be holding back tears himself, and James feels his heart constrict in his chest. He’s barely aware of Alec joining the guards, still in his nightshirt, but they all kneel by the bed, leaving James feeling more alone than he ever had before. As one, all the guards speak the same four words, looking up at the orphan.

“ _Long live the king_.”


	3. Green and Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for Q to return home. James is now king; let the celebration commence!

“Q? Q there’s news from England! Where are you, lazybones?”

The vamp opens his eyes, staring at the ceiling as Dracula flies into their room, a written missive in his hand. “What is it? I was napping.”

“Liar, no you weren’t. The king has died and his son is taking the throne. England is going to have a new monarch.”

“Why does this concern me? I’ve not been back in two centuries, Drac. And you bloody know why, no less.”

“Because you’ve spent the last several months in bed, Q. I think it’s time for you to go home. You need a change of pace. Complacency is not a good quality in vampyr.” He tilts Q’s chin up for a kiss. “And even vampyr need to return to native soil. It makes them stronger. You’re wasting away to nothing.”

Q sighs and leans against his creator. “I have nothing from England but bad memories.”

“You can’t hide from your past forever, Q.”

“There have been a dozen rulers at least since I left. Why should this change be any different?”

“Because the king and queen died on the same day from different causes. She was ill for months, and he died hunting.”

 _That_ makes Q sit up and take notice. “How do you know?”

“Because I got my hands on a death announcement as well. The coronation is in three days, complete with a celebration tournament in the new king’s honor.”

“I’m going to need papers.”

Dracula grins and kisses his lover again before heading for his desk. “Give me an hour and I’ll have them for you.”

Q rises and follows Dracula to the desk, watching his lover’s hand as he creates flawless identification papers to trace Q’s lineage back several generations. “They’re beautiful, Drac.”

“Not like you. You do know how handsome you are, don’t you? You’re going to turn so many heads when you return home. I have to admit, I’m rather jealous.” The older vampire looks up at Q, smirking at him. “I’ve not kept a lover as long as you. I think I’ll miss you. This castle gets cold and drafty without company.”

“I’ll come back and visit. I don’t think there’s anything in England to hold me.”

“ _Scumpule_ , don’t count yourself out just yet. You’ve been out of the world for a long time. Now. You should send word ahead that you’re on the way. Maybe decide on a cover. It’ll be easier to gain trust that way than if you appear from nowhere.”

The younger vampire nods. “I have enough travel and experience that I’ll be fine. I could be a foreign advisor, perhaps. I’ll arrive well before any missive of my impending arrival could though.” He sighs and stares at the heavy curtains shielding them from the setting sun outside. “My protection spells are strong enough now that the sun won’t bother me. I’ll be able to pass for human.”

“Even without eating or sleeping?”

“I can eat human food when I need. Always preferred tea to food anyway. And I don’t have to keep my bed warm. I have my magic to smooth things over if needs be as well.”

“You just need clothes. Something with a bit of green.” Dracula smiles and pulls Q after him to choose a few outfits he can take. “And you absolutely need red. And then black.”

Q smiles, laughing softly. “You always spoiled me, old man.”

“And you’re a scruffy little thing. All that curly hair, you’ll be absolutely scandalous.”

“Should I maybe get a hat?”

“Oh no. Don’t you dare cover it up. Besides, it’ll make you that much more noticeable.”

“Thank you… Drac, thank you for everything.”

Two hours later Q is dressed and packed, stepping out the front door into the cool, evening air. He turns around one last time to look at the castle, to where Dracula stands watching him. The young vampire squares his shoulders and turns away from the closest thing he’s ever had to a home.

Time to return to England.

***

“I can’t.”

“James-”

“No, I really can’t do this. Call it off, Alec.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Me as king? There’s no way. I can’t bloody do this. We both know I can’t do this. I figured when it came time I’d be older, I’d have more training and schooling than this, more time to study with Father… that Mum would still be alive…” James feels his eyes burning, and he rubs at them angrily, shoulders sagging when his fingers come away wet. “Alec… I _miss_ them.”

Alec drags James into a tight embrace, hugging him before glancing around the room and kissing him deeply. “You do realize that your worries are just nerves? That this will go smoothly and you’ll be all right?”

“You’ll be there the whole time, won’t you?”

“I’m going to be your _personal_ guard, James. You couldn’t keep me away even if you tried.”

James drops his head to Alec’s shoulder with a groan. “I’d rather skip the coronation and head right to the tournament. You’re jousting tomorrow?”

“I am. In your honor.”

“Nothing will change between us just because I’m king, will it? I-I won’t lose you as my closest friend?”

The older man understands then, that besides missing his family, James is afraid, truly afraid of losing the only family he has left. “You will _never_ lose me, James.” He holds up his hand, scarred palm facing James. “Blood brothers.”

The prince smiles and holds up his own hand, taking Alec’s and squeezing. “Blood brothers.” James takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “I’m really going to be all right?”

“James, you’ll be the best bloody king England has ever seen.”

“Okay. I got this.”

***

Q sets foot on English soil three days after he leaves Drac’s castle. He doesn’t expect to feel any different when he makes his way down the gangplank and onto solid ground, but the moment he makes contact, it’s like a rush of energy shoots through him from toe to head. Weariness falls from his shoulders, and everything seems sharper, more in focus.

He starts off in the local tavern, listening to conversations for information and casually inquiring about the prince; he asks the same questions in every taven he stops at between the coast and London.

“Prince Bond? He’s his father’s son.”

“The man is every bit as handsome as he is fair to look at.”

“The queen had been sick for… oh, since the spring. She’s in heaven now with her husband, God rest their souls.”

“I heard the king died in a hunting accident, gored by the boar he tried to take down.”

“Are we really going to war with Spain?”

“Maybe he’ll participate in the tournament. I’ve heard he knows how to wield a blade as good as anyone in the Kingsguard.”

“I’ve heard his eyes can stop you in your tracks. Blue, like King Andrew’s were, God rest him.”

The more Q hears, the more curious he grows. The new king is young, only a few years older than Q was when Drac turned him. Every account agrees that he’s strong and skilled, a perfect leader for England in what could become troubled times without a steady hand.

When Q arrives in London the day after he returns to England, he finds the city in full celebration. King James had been crowned the day before, and the tournament is in full swing. There’s jousting, armed combat, archery contests, food stands, blacksmiths from all over the country who’ve come to hawk their wares and design new pieces in honor of the king. Any of those works bear stag antlers, the symbol of Bond’s line.

Q wanders through to the jousting yard where they announce a guardsman named Trevelyan will be facing a knight from Northern England. The riders take their places, and just before the guard puts his visor down, he tips his head towards the crowd. Q pushes through to figure out who and he finds himself looking at the king for the first time.

His first conclusion is that every description of the man doesn’t do him justice.

The second is that Q absolutely has to meet him.

James looks incredibly regal with the crown upon his head. His doublet looks to be fine silk perhaps, tailored to highlight where his hips begin to narrow and the broadness of his shoulders. It’s a deep blood red, a stark contrast to the blond of his hair and the tan of his skin and the shine of his eye; even at a distance, he can see how blue the man’s eyes are, like ice on a frozen lake. They’re observing the field at the moment, focusing mostly on the guard who had nodded to him, the guard who proceeds to win every single bout.

***

If it weren’t for getting to watch Alec compete, James thinks he would lose his mind. He’s going spare at having to sit still, at not being allowed to join in. Apparently, it would put him at too great a risk, and it’s not proper for him to compete in a tournament that’s in his honor.

So he does everything he can to sit up and hold himself in what everyone considers to be a royal way.

“Stop fidgeting, James,” M murmurs from where she sits at his right. “You’ll have to do a lot more of this in the coming years of your reign.”

“Perhaps, but it doesn’t make things any better right now.” The fun is absolutely gone from daily life if this is what he gets to look forward to. He turns to the man at his left, pasting a smile on his face. “Is the view to your liking, Mr. Silva?”

Q can see the exchange happen from where he stands, and thanks to his hearing, he’s able to make out every word they say. The man sitting to the king’s left is blond, his hair pulled back from his face. There seems to be a permanent smirk playing around his mouth, and his expression suggests a shrewd mind and extreme disdain for the proceedings around him.

“It’s to be expected, nothing compared to the bullfighting back home.”

Q can hear the accent in Silva’s English, an emissary from Spain then. Perhaps tensions were worse than he’d overheard. He keeps to the back of the crowd, taking it all in as the winners are declared. The blond guard who had nodded at the king wins the jousting, Alec Trevelyan, he hears, and a young woman in full guard kit wins the armored combat and the archery, Eve Moneypenny. And then it’s over with the royal entourage headed back to the castle for the evening ball. Q knows they’ll not be expecting him, so when he rents a room at a local inn, he makes sure to slip his papers into his doublet. He wears the green one to bring out the green in his eyes before heading up to the castle. Time to make the king’s acquaintance.

***

He shows his papers to the castle guards who let him in with profound apologies that his name is not on their list. He takes a bit of pleasure in seeing them squirm before heading in and following the crowd to the great hall. The tables are set up on the sides and are piled high with every food imaginable from fruits to sweet pies to full roasted pigs. Q can practically hear the wood groaning under the bounty for all the guests. He makes his way through the crowd to where the king is receiving guests, shaking hands and speaking briefly with people. Trevelyan is standing just behind him, the old woman from the tournament is at his right hand, definitely his advisor. Effortlessly, Q makes his way to the king. He can hear whispers, feel people on either side of him turning to look. He smirks ever so slightly and walks up the shallow steps to the dais where the throne sits. He can see that the king has changed his doublet, opting for a blue one that matches the vibrance of his eyes.

James looks past the people currently bowing and scraping, and he feels like his world shifts on its axis. The young man with stunning green eyes approaching him, all in green with black hose and no cap to cover his wildly curly hair, with a gold embroidered belt around his narrow waist, is the picture of temptation and sin, and James instantly likes him if only for that. He smirks and waits for the man to bow, which he does, just a little one, before meeting James’s eyes again. Q takes the king’s hand, kissing the ring and stroking a single finger down the man’s palm. “Your highness,” he murmurs, staring up at James and allowing some of the want he feels for the man to show. James smells delectable up close, though it’s hard to tell which scent is definitively his in this particular room. If anything, Q’s nose is rather overwhelmed with it all.

The king grins and inclines his head. “And what might your name be?”

“Q, sir. It’s been many years since I’ve been back on England’s shores, but I must say, it’s worth it to be for the coronation of such a handsome king.”

“Which family is yours?”

Q feels the papers against his chest even though he’s learned them off by heart. “Kingsbury, sir. I’m the youngest of Margaret and have spent the last eighteen years studying in Europe. I’m fluent in French and I’ve studied politics, geography, letters, anything I could get my hands on, really.” He leaves off the fact that he also speaks German and Spanish and Romanian, can read Latin and Greek fluently. Oh, and that he’s over two hundred years old and a vampire. And that he’s a mage. Better to keep those on a need to know basis.

James raises an eyebrow and takes Q’s hand, pressing it to his lips as he continues to look at the young man. “Welcome back to England, Q. I hope you find everything here to your liking.”

“My lord, I believe I already have.”

James raises an eyebrow and he hears a very faint snort from behind him; clearly Alec likes the young man as well or appreciates his cheek at the very least. “I think I will have to insist on taking your first dance of the evening.”

Q wishes in that second that he still had the ability to blush. He ducks his head slightly and smiles, winking at the king. “I’m flattered, sir. I would be honored to dance with you.”

“Call me James,” the blond says, taking Q’s hand more firmly and leading him out onto the floor. He signals to the musicians who begin to play a Basse. The vampire grins, knowing James truly intends only to dance with him for this first round. They begin to walk around each other, moving slowly in time with the music. “So tell me, Q, what brings you back to England?”

“It’s been too long since I was home. And everyone I spoke to had nothing but high praise for your strength and beauty. I had to see what could only be an angel for myself.”

“Angel? Are you sure? I could be a devil.”

“I doubt the archbishop would have allowed a devil to be crowned king of England, don’t you?”

“Perhaps not. Though I rather find my lovers to be very enthusiastic with my wicked skills.”

“So you equate sexual accomplishment with demonic abilities? That seems to give the credit away instead of claiming it for yourself.”

“Does that mean I can claim you later tonight?”

“And simply be a notch on your bedpost? Oh I think you’ll have to try much harder than that with me.”

James smirks, winking at Q as they move. “If you’re from a noble family, you’ll of course be staying here.”

“I’m flattered by your offer. I have a room at the Black Sheep, but I would happily retrieve my things to be able to stay here.”

“I’ll send one of my men for your things. I insist.”

“Thank you, sir. I’m at your service, James.”

The longer they dance, the more Q is sure the intoxicating aroma around him is the king. He smells so sweet, so alluring; if Q were a much younger vamp, he probably wouldn’t be able to resist taking a bite. When the song finally ends and they bow to each other, James takes the opportunity to kiss Q’s hand once more before meeting his gaze, blue eyes drinking in the vibrant green. “Thank you for the honor,” the king murmurs. “Come with me. I want you to meet someone.” Q follows him back to the dais where James brings him to the older woman with short, grey hair and shrewd smile. “Q, this is M. M, this is Q Kingsbury.”

“It’s an honor to meet you, ma’am.”

Up close, the vampire can see just how composed and powerful the woman is. She looks him up and down carefully, as if evaluating him, and he doesn’t realize at first that he goes completely still for a few seconds, not even breathing. When he remembers to inhale again, he sees her gaze narrow.

“I hope you find everything here comparable to your time spent abroad, Mr. Q.”

Q bows his head and lets James introduce him to Alec (the man clearly flirting just with his eyes as he attempts to maintain a stoic expression), Mallory (captain of the guard), and Raoul Silva, the blond man he’d seen earlier. He is, in fact, the Spanish emissary sent to England to negotiate for peace, though up close, Q is still less than impressed and, if anything, unnerved by the man’s eyes. He rarely blinks, and Q has to fight back a shiver of unease.

James is called away all too soon to talk with guests again, so Q blends into the crowd to observe and learn all he can. He hears M approach but does nothing to move away when she grabs his arm and pulls him into the corridor.

“I know there’s something different about you, Q,” she murmurs, looking up at him firmly. “You aren’t entirely who you say you are, but I won’t tell James. Because there’s something happening here, and you may be the only one who can set things to rights again. Keep an eye on James. He needs people on his side more than ever now. I don’t think his parents’ deaths were an accident.”

Then she’s gone, back in the great hall with the rest of the guests, and Q is left standing alone and confused. What does she mean? Who could possibly be plotting against James? And if the deaths weren’t an accident… then why are the former king and queen now buried and their son the ruling monarch?

Alec comes to find Q an hour later, leading the young vampire to his room in the castle. He’s on the same hall as James and Alec. “The king insisted you stay close,” Alec teases with a wink. “Can’t say I blame him. You’re quite the handsome young thing, aren’t you?”

“I really am. Though after seeing you joust today, I’m amazed the king has eyes for anyone else.” He winks back at Alec and heads into his room. “Until tomorrow, Master Trevelyan.”

“Oh no. If James insists you call him by his Christian name, then you get to use mine. It’s Alec.”

“Goodness, and here I thought I was going to have to call you Champion.”

“Can’t say I mind that title. I’ve been told it by a fair few already.”

“You left them able to speak? That’s a shame.”

“You give it as good as you get, eh?”

“You have no idea. Goodnight, Alec.”

Q closes the door and lays down on his bed, after checking his bags of course. He removes his papers and stows them safely away before closing his eyes to unwind from the day. So many things to process and take in properly, and the king… and his friend… James and Alec.

***

The vampire manages a very brief nap after midnight, though he’s not fully aware of his surroundings again until dawn. There’s a commotion in the corridor, and he opens the door to find Alec standing there about to knock.

“What’s happened?”

“It’s M. She’s dead.”

 

I adore the magnificent [procoffeinating](http://procoffeinating.tumblr.com/). Their art gives me life. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From what I could find, scumpule means "darling" in Romanian.
> 
> A Basse: This was the most popular court dance and was performed by two partners using slow and low movements, almost appearing to walk.


	4. My Right Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With M dead, there's now a position open on James's council of advisers. And most of the men will want that position for themselves.

Alec brings Q to the council room as soon as the vampire has a chance to dress. Q’s mind is spinning with questions, flitting back and forth mostly between “How did M die?”, “Who killed her?” and “Is James all right?”

_Because there’s something happening here, and you may be the only one who can set things to rights again_

Is this what she had meant? Had she known she was going to die? If she did, why didn’t she tell him more? Give him a name? Surely that would be easier than this.

_I don’t think his parents’ deaths were an accident_

Does James know what she had suspected? Could he even be prepared to believe that his parents had been murdered?

_I know there’s something different about you. You aren’t entirely who you say you are_

How could she _possibly_ have known that?

Q follows the guard silently, observing the route so he’ll know how to get back. If there’s a killer in the castle, then no one is safe, not even him.

They arrive first, the room empty save for James. The crown rests on the table next to where he’s resting his head, and Q can see from the slight tremors in his shoulders that the man is crying. He must truly have cared about her. Q feels his chest constrict slightly, one of those reactions left over from his short human tenure on Earth.

“James, I brought him.”

The king looks up, hastily wiping his eyes as he examines Q. “Nothing but death in these walls lately,” he says without any humor. “First my parents, and now M… she taught Alec and me, did you know that? Mostly languages and foreign affairs. She was tough, gave us no quarter. I thought… surely… even with everything that’s happened, she would still be here.”

The guard crosses to his friend, squeezing James’s shoulder. “We’ll sort this mess out, I promise you.”

Q can see the exact moment when James chooses to bury his pain. It’s a slight change in expression, a hardening of the eyes, the piercing blue that almost seems to glow in the dim light turning into chips of ice from as James shoves his emotions away. His shoulders straighten, and if anything, he bears himself like the rightful king of the realm. The vampire can remember a similar instance in his own life: the day he learned his family was gone. “If it’s any consolation,” he says quietly, “I’ve lost many people in my life to various things. Some of them close enough to consider them parents, brothers, sisters… I’m so sorry for your loss.”

The king is putting the crown back on his head when Q speaks. James fixes his cold stare on Q, and the vamp sees the briefest glimmer of something more there before the doors slam open, admitting the rest of the council, Mallory, Silva, and several more guards. Q recognizes the female warrior from the other day, Eve, as well. She takes a position by the doors while Alec seems to melt into his post behind James. The king beckons to Q, and he heads over to stand by the man. The right hand seat at the table remains empty; that must have been M’s place in life.

“I’ll need to appoint a replacement for-for M,” James murmurs to Q. “She told me last night at the ball that she believed I can trust you. While I want to honor her last words to me, I also need to determine that for myself. So watch the room, observe everyone. See if you have any idea who might be a suitable replacement.”

“What was her position?”

“She was my right hand. My most trusted advisor. Her wisdom is what I turned to before making any final decisions. It must be someone with a level head. Someone who doesn’t allow emotion to sway or cloud their judgement.”

Q gives a brief nod and uses just enough magic on himself to only be noticed when attention is brought his way. He stays clearly visible to James and Alec, but the others’ gazes will just glide right off him unless they really focus.

“I’m sorry to have to call you here for such solemn matters,” James begins, turning to look at each member of his council. “I’m horrified that such a thing has happened so close to the deaths of the former king and queen, God rest their souls.” He manages to say that without his voice wavering, a small triumph despite what feels like a knife twisting in his heart. “But, it has happened, and we cannot change that. What we can do is work to catch this killer and ensure we remain as strong as ever. To do this, I need to appoint a new advisor to this council. With foreign tensions as they are, it cannot do for us to be so vulnerable.”

“If I may,” Silva says from his place in the foreign emissary chair, “but other countries know your weaknesses and will work to exploit them. It should be someone with extensive knowledge of foreign cultures and affairs.” _Ah_ , thinks Q. _He means to take the position for himself, since he is, after all, a foreigner._

“All due respect,” counters Mallory, “but you need someone with military tactics, expertise in directing men and keeping order.”

“What about the people? If infrastructures should fail? Supply routes break down?” Minister of Agriculture.

“They can be protected with enough soldiers along the roads.” Mallory.

“Roads that could just as easily fall to foreign attack.” Silva. The man’s eyes seem unnaturally bright in the dim torchlight of the room; Q feels that same unease from the day before, like something squirming beneath his skin.

“We must be frugal, not squander the royal treasury. We cannot afford to hemorrhage money.” Ahh, the court treasurer.

“If the borders fall, what then? We shall be overrun.”

“We need order and discipline!”

“Strength in numbers!”

“Diplomacy!”

“Foreign aid!”

The room explodes in a cacophony of shouting and finger pointing; Q sighs quietly and shakes his head. He leans back towards Alec, keeping one eye on the arguing men. “None of them are fit to take her seat. Look at how they squabble over the promise of power. They’re all concerned with their own area and nothing more. They would destroy the country themselves, given the chance.”

The guard nods once, leaning forward to murmur the sentiment to James. “Q and I both agree on this. They all want the position for themselves, personal gain. It should be someone with practical experience who doesn’t want the post.”

The king’s lip twitches as he tilts his head to listen to Alec; it’s a testament to how hard the others are arguing that no one notices the interaction. “None of them are worthy to even sit in her chair.”

“What about Q? He has foreign experience, and he’s a British citizen. He’s lived abroad for at least twenty years.” Q fights back a snort at hearing so short a time associated with him. _Try two hundred_ , he thinks. “He listens, and I know M told you she trusts him. I know we don’t know the lad yet, but I like him.”

“As do I, Alec. And you’re right. I think Q is the practical choice. Perhaps the others should reign it in a bit. It would do to have them listen to reason.”

James straightens up and clears his throat once, raising his hand to get the room’s attention. The men quiet down, glaring at each other but facing their king. “You all make valid points. Yes, those considerations should be taken into account when approaching this issue. However, the person I’ve decided to appoint is Q.” He gestures to the empty seat, and the vamp takes it, trying to ignore the burning stares directed at him. “He’s spent the past twenty years studying across Europe and has vast knowledge of foreign policy, language, and diplomacy. He’s also a native Englishman. M herself recommended him to me when she discovered he was coming. In the confusion and rush for the coronation, I had forgotten until now. I hope you will forgive my error so we can discuss more pressing matters.”

There’s a knock on the council door, and Eve opens it, admitting Tanner. He bows to James, eyes flitting to each of the council members. “I-I’ve determined the cause of death, sir.”

Q feels James stiffen as he faces the castle’s apothecary and doctor. “Yes?”

“She-she was poisoned, sir.”

There are murmurs around the table and almost instantly hush as James raises his hand. “Are you certain?”

“There’s a hint of spoiled almonds on her tongue, and her color looks like she was strangled even though there are no marks. So, yes. I believe so.”

You could have heard a pin drop as he finishes his statement. James’s face is completely inscrutable, but Q can hear his heartbeat speed up. “Thank you, Tanner.”

Eve lets him back out again and closes the door, looking worriedly at James. The king exhales slowly and brings his attention back to his council. Q hears how he breathes to calm his racing heart.

“Well. There would have been plenty of chances to poison her last night,” James says quietly. “I think we should all be more careful around our food and drink until the culprit is apprehended. Now. Onto other matters. We all need to thank Mr. Silva for making the journey over from Spain so quickly. In all the commotion, he has not yet had a chance to begin working with us towards peaceful relations.”

The foreign minister clears his throat. “If I may, my lord, you are yet unmarried. A wedding would be a way to strengthen the kingdom. I’m sure we could find you a favorable Spanish bride.” He nods to Silva, acknowledging his presence. “A way to resolve tensions and form a lasting alliance.”

“I’m fairly certain I can maintain order on my own. Thank you for your advice, minister, but I don’t need a wife.”

Q hears Alec mutter under his breath to James, “Damn right you don’t,” and he manages to swallow his own smirk. The guard is possessive towards the king, something to file away for later. It could prove useful, though they’ll need to be careful. That kind of trust could be a liability in the wrong hands.

“Your majesty,” Silva purrs, leaning forward to rest his arms on the table. “Tensions with my country are already too tenuous to dispel the notion of a match so carelessly. If we cannot find an amicable solution to our differences, then war is inevitable. And Spain will not hesitate to fight until the last rat is standing.”

James’s eyes narrow slightly at the man. “Is that a threat, Mr. Silva?”

“Not at all, your majesty. I’m simply passing on the word from my own king.” He sits back in his chair, something approximating a congenial smile playing over his features, but Q notes it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I will consider it, Mr. Silva.”

“If you would like, I could send word and have one of the eligible princesses sent here for you to appraise her, get to know her. Perhaps it will be a favorable match after all. Shower her with all the affection and honor befitting your title as king. She would be ever so glad to meet your highness, I’m sure.”

Q doesn’t like this. It’s like the other men have James backed into a corner, and he can see the way the man’s leg is bouncing beneath the table that he doesn’t like it at all either. They want to force this, control him with a marriage he doesn’t want… but he also knows James will do anything he needs to in order to protect England.

“Sir, if I may,” the vampire murmurs, “perhaps the council should adjourn for the day to give you time to think over their suggestions. It would do for you to take your time, considering the nature and gravitas of everything that has happened.”

James nods and stands, prompting the others to follow suit. “We shall adjourn for the day, though I’m a little curious. Just so I know, Mr. Silva, and it’s not a huge shock to receive a lady without the proper preparations, may I know her name?”

There’s a tiny flash of… _something_ in the Spaniard’s eyes, nearly too fast for even Q to see. The man nods and gives a little bow that somehow feels insincere.

“Of course my lord. Her name is Vesper.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm playing fast and loose with history. Spain wasn't a fully unified and established country until the 1470s. This part of the story is in the 1450s.


	5. Growing Connections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Alec and Q: touring the castle, teasing and flirting, training, sharing stories.

Q watches as the room clears, leaving him alone with Alec and James; the moment the door closes, the king slumps back down in his chair and plonks the crown on the table with a groan. The guard chuckles and claps his friend on the shoulder. “So that _was_ as bad as it looked. Good. I thought I was imagining the rising levels of hostility.”

James nods, head buried in his arms. “No, those were very real. Fucking palpable. Can I just disappear? Sneak out? No one will miss me, right?”

Alec barks out a laugh, chuckling and sitting to James’s left since Q is still at the man’s right. “That was your first proper council meeting _and_ you had to appoint someone. They won’t all be that rough.”

“Father was so much better at this than I am though. I don’t have the faintest idea of how to handle this without pissing them off. And _marriage_?!” James looks up at his friend, shaking his head. “There’s no way. I can’t get bloody married. I’ll figure out a reason why we aren’t compatible, I-I’ll fake the plague!”

“James,” Q says quietly. “You know their argument is valid. Your father married your mother at least in part to solidify relations with France, didn’t he?” He keeps his voice soft and soothing, not wanting to upset the king, and ever so slightly rests his hand on the man’s arm. Q can feel the strength of James’s pulse beneath his shirt and has the fleeting thought that he needs to feed. Soon. “They’ll expect you to give it serious consideration. I completely understand your reluctance though. If I had someone like Trevelyan here, I wouldn’t want to leave my bed.”

Alec winks lasciviously at the vampire, and James finds himself smiling ever so slightly. “I’m sure he would say the same about you,” the king murmurs. “God knows I would.”

Q grins at them both. “How about a distraction then. Since I’m new to London and to your domain, how about a tour of the castle? Alec as our escort, keep you safe, keep us from getting up to anything… untoward.”

“See, leaving Alec in charge of behavior is just asking for a fumble in an empty chamber. He’s an absolute scoundrel.”

“That’s a risk I’ll have to take. I’m anything other than innocent in that sense.”

“I like him, James.”

The king grins broadly now, standing and placing his crown back on his head. He offers his arm to Q, the vampire taking it with another smile. “A tour, eh? All right then. I think I can manage that.”

***

They start with the throne room (easy enough), followed by several storage chambers, the great hall, and the trophy room. That room is covered with pelts and heads of animals brought down by the royal family over the past several decades. The first room that really gets Q excited though, is the library.

“It’s amazing! How do you not spend all your time in here?”

James grins and leans against one of the shelves, watching his guest flit around the room. “I enjoy reading but clearly not to the extent you do.”

“It’s been ages since I’ve had proper time and access to more books than the few I keep with me while I travel. But you-you have maybe _every_ book ever printed! Or illuminated. And you have scrolls and maps too… this place is heaven.” He picks one up reverently, unrolling it and examining the highly detailed map of London. “They’re gorgeous, works of art every single one.”

Alec chuckles as he watches Q practically drooling over each piece of paper he touches. “He’s something else, isn’t he James?”

“I’ve never seen such enthusiasm for learning. Not even we had that.”

“No, in fact if I recall, we were always skipping out on our lessons in an effort to play as opposed to read.”

“But we learned in the end.”

The guard allows himself a brief moment of intimacy, nuzzling James’s neck and kissing him gently. “And he doesn’t mind us. He’s flirted with us equally.”

“That’s certainly a first with someone who didn’t start off in our bed.”

“Who was the last boy we had?”

“The new stable lad.”

“Ohhhh that’s right. What a delicious thing he was.”

“I can hear every word you say, you know. I have excellent hearing.” Q peers over the top of the scroll he’s currently examining, smirking at both men. “And I’ll decide for myself if I want to share a bed with anyone while I’m here. I’ve… recently left a long term relationship, for lack of a better word.” He can practically hear the men staring at him, so he sighs and rolls up the scroll, putting it back. “We’ve been together for a while. He traveled with me for the past few years, but he insisted I come back. Said I needed a change of scenery, that I was starting to grow complacent with my life.” He walks back over to James and Alec, looking each of them in the eye in turn. “It’s actually encouraging to see such a bond between two people. That level of trust you share? It’s rare to find that at all anymore. I’ve not seen it in a long time.”

“Q… I’m sorry.”

The vampire shakes his head. “No, don’t be. He was right. And while part of me loved him, he’s not the person I’m meant to be with.”

“James, did we just learned for sure that our boy here likes men?”

“Alec, I think we did.”

“Oh shove off, the pair of you. You’re incredibly wicked for a king and his bodyguard.”

“But it’s what makes us lovable,” Alec replies, grinning and unrepentant.

“He has a point, Q. It’s part of our natural charm.”

“You’re both horny devils.” But the vampire is chuckling, grinning at them both. “All right, now you know if you can’t find me, I’m probably in here.”

“Duly noted.” James pulls Q close again as they head down the corridor. “So. Tell us about your travels.”

“Anything specific you want to know? I’ve travelled for much of my life.”

“Have you ever been in danger?”

Q chuckles, running through all the encounters he and Drac had with hunters and the like. “There was this one time in France… Vlad and I were camping in the woods by this gorgeous waterfall we’d found, and I mean this place idyllic. We were eating lunch and enjoying the local flora- there were the most _gorgeous_ wildflowers. Anyway, we were so caught up in our meal that we didn’t see the bandits until they had a knife at my throat.” He hears James take a sharp breath in, and he smirks. “Vlad raises his hands, talking slowly in French, just enough to say we’re unarmed and have no money. That’s when the other bandit grabs him… they didn’t frisk me, and that was their first mistake. The second was threatening Vlad. I slit the first one’s throat and threw the knife right into the other’s shoulder before Vlad finished him off. I’ve never been more relieved to have training with a blade.”

James and Alec exchange a look, curious about how well trained their guest is as well as more than a little aroused at the thought of Q with a blade in his hands. “You killed two men like it was nothing?”

The shorter man looks up at them, deliberately not adding the part where he and Vlad had drained the two men, or that they had been amateur vampire hunters. James and Alec don’t need those details. “It was self-defense?”

The guard chuckles and ruffles Q’s hair. “The more I hear, the more I like.”

“That’s enough about me. I want to hear about the pair of you growing up in this castle.”

James opens his mouth to speak, but Alec talks over him. “Oh have I got some stories for you. Let’s start with the time we filled the foreign ambassador’s bed with worms.”

“I was going to tell him about we broke the renovations and the builders had to start over.”

“What about the time when we hid all the real swords and replaced them with the training weapons?”

“No, swapping boot polish for cooking grease.”

“Mice in the stables.”

***

Even if Q still needed sleep, he wouldn’t have been able to anyway. When night falls and he retreats to his chambers in the castle, his head is buzzing with all the stories he’s heard that day. He loves how _easy_ it is to talk to James and Alec, and it doesn’t take too much to alter his own stories and share his experiences. And those men… James with his gorgeous blue eyes and Alec with that wickedly handsome smirk, both of them toned and fit and stunning with minds just as sharp. He lays in his bed and stares at the ceiling, a smile playing at his lips when he hears the first noises of distress from the room next to his.

Q sits up, frowning and focusing his hearing through the wall. He frowns, positive he hears restless sleeping, soft whimpers as well. He stands and melts into the shadows in his room, moving through them easily and slipping into the next room to see James sprawled on his bed. He’s thrown the blankets off and is sweating, face screwed up in his sleep The vampire takes a slow step from the shadows, solidifying into a solid being once more as James begins to talk in his sleep.

“No… no please… stop that… leave her alone… no, no Mum… please no!”

The vampire understands instantly. Pressing back against the wall, he casts a protection spell around the room, muting the sounds to outside ears and making sure no one can get in while his own attention is distracted. He calls upon his magic, digging deep into the part of him that’s still a mage, his link to his humanity. Q reaches within until his eyes glow like lightning energy flows down his arms until it sparks at his fingertips. “ _Go_ ,” Q whispers, sending the magic to James.

For a moment, his own vision goes dark before colors begin to swirl, coalescing into moving images before him. He can see James trying to run to his mother while a faceless man raises a knife above her. Q snaps his fingers and the dream _changes_. The colors soften and he creates the waterfall and the field of wildflowers from his own memories, placing James in the middle of the scene. He adds a few birds, a light breeze, and infuses the whole dream with a sense of calm.

“Sleep, James. Rest, relax… you’re safe.”

“Q?”

The vampire and mage startles, losing his glimpse of James’s dream. He shakes his head, trying to clear it of the excess magic when he hears it again.

“ _Q_.”

James is murmuring his name in his sleep. Q frowns, removing the blanket protection bubble and sending a tiny additional piece of calm to help James get some rest before melting back into the shadows. He practically flees to his room, trying to understand how James could possibly have sensed him. Flirting is all well and good, but he could never be with the king, especially not if he’s going to have to marry.

Or… if James hadn’t sensed him… if he had actually begun to dream of Q on his own… what could that mean?

***

“All right then, Q. Show us what you can do.”

The vampire hefts the sword with ease, more uncomfortable wearing his training armor than he is holding the metal in his hand, and that’s just because it restricts his movement. He drops into an easy stance, facing James with a proud smirk. “All right then. Have at thee!”

The king makes the first move, feinting and aiming for the obvious weak spot in Q’s armor. The vampire smirks and moves at the last second, parrying the blow and striking. He taps James ever so lightly on the chest and steps back out of reach. He’s incredibly careful to keep his movements within the realm of human speed, and he can tell James is impressed.

“All right then. Lucky shot.”

Q grins and does it again. And again. He and James are dancing around each other, moving in such enthusiastic tandem that they could have been fighting their whole lives… only James never lands a single hit; Q wins every bout.

“My turn.” Alec jumps into the ring, nudging James to the side. “Get a drink of water, your highness. Let me see if I can land a blow on this little devil.”

But Alec has as much luck as James did. Q is like mercury, slipping through his arms at the last second and landing teasing taps to his arms, chest, legs, and back. The guard is sweating and panting by the end, and Q has to remember to breathe a little harder though he can’t really simulate sweat; he makes for the water barrel and dunks his head instead. “So, still think you can take me?”

James and Alec stare at him for a moment before laughing, smacking each other on the shoulder.

“He hustled us.”

“I think he did indeed. You didn’t mention weapon training on your list of accomplishments.”

“I have to keep some things mysterious. I could never give up all my secrets at once.” He winks at them. “Is there a place we can wash down?”

“Yeah, this way.” James beckons, Alec and Q following. They disrobe in the antechamber and head into the “shower” room where they follow James’s suit and douse themselves in buckets of water, washing the sweat and salt from their skin. Q sneaks a look at the other two, noting how they unashamedly show their nakedness. And they’re every bit as gorgeous as the vampire had suspected. Their cocks are roughly the same size and thickness, their bodies a wonderful golden tan. Alec’s hair is slightly darker than James’s, a little browner than blond, and the hair on his body reflects it too. Q is more than a little interested in them and has to fight his body’s natural reaction in order to escape further teasing. They towel off and dress before James leads the way back into the castle and down to the kitchens. Alec stands guard while James grabs a basket and fills it with bread, fruit, and cheese before bolting. Q and Alec follow close on his heels, running out into the garden and laughing.

James scales the largest apple tree in the garden, situating himself on one of the branches and leaning against the trunk. The other two follow him up, settling on the strongest branches as James tosses them food. “You do this often?” Q asks, catching an apple and taking a small bite. He watches as James and Alec each devour a large hunk of cheese before tearing into the bread.

“Whenever we can. Though we used to do this way more when we were children.”

James nods in agreement. “There’s not nearly enough chance to sneak off like this anymore. Not for at least a year now.”

“You’re very different from a king than I thought you would be. I always imagined royalty to be pompous and self-serving, but… you’re different.

“I don’t feel like a king yet. I’ve had the position for what, four, maybe five days now? And I don’t have any idea what the _fuck_ I’m doing.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Alec agrees, catching the apple James chucks at his head.

“James, you have heart. It’s clear that you care about others; it’s one of the first things I saw in you when we met. So long as you remember to be firm and fair, you’ll be one of the best kings England has ever seen. Don’t let anyone take away your power, but make sure you leave yourself open to solid, sane advice.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from my closest advisor… I still can’t believe M is gone. I’ll be perfectly fine and then it hits me all over again.”

“She was worried something was wrong,” Q admits, nibbling his apple. “She pulled me aside after you introduced us and told me that-that she thinks your parents’ deaths weren’t an accident.”

He knows James says something in response, Q feels his head begin to spin. He groans and runs his fingers through his hair, realizing that the reason he’s salivating and can’t think properly is because he’s gone too long without feeding. Was it… when he left Vlad? Was that the last time?

“Q? Are you all right?”

The vampire exhales slowly, trying to clear James’s scent from his head. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s all been a bit much to adjust to, I think. I’ll be right as rain tomorrow.”

The king nods, but he keeps glancing up toward Q and frowning. Something has changed, but he doesn’t know what.

***

He barely manages to wait until nightfall to find his victim. Q wanders into the servant’s quarters, smiling at a young girl and beckoning to her. His eyes are glowing, and as soon as she meets his gaze, she’s lost to him. The girl follows him into an empty chamber, and once he closes the door, he puts a protection spell around them. There. They won’t be disturbed now.

“What’s your name, my dear?”

“Maggie,” she murmurs, leaning into his touch as he runs a finger down her cheek. Vampire influence is so easy, almost effortless to bend the will of a human to make the feeding easier, keep them willing.

“Darling Margaret,” Q whispers as he kisses down her neck. “May I have a taste?”

“ _Yes_ , oh yes, please.”

Q growls and sinks his fangs into her neck, relief flooding his body as the blood hits his tongue. He takes quickly at first, drinking long and deep to quench his desperate thirst, but when he feels her pulse begin to slow, he stops. Q licks the wound to help it clot, then passes his hand over the flesh to make it heal; he leaves no marks behind at all. Then he turns his attention to the girl, her face slack with lust and pleasure. The vampire passes his hand over her forehead, murmuring in Latin.

“ _Forget, you’ll not remember any of this. You’re safe. Go to bed._ ”

Maggie wanders out of the room and back to her chamber as Q slumps against the wall, removing the protection charm and heading back to his room. As he walks down the corridor, he feels the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. He can’t shake the feeling that somehow, someone is watching him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vampire feeding is always a little bit dub-con in my mind, but mostly that comes from the ability to charm the human and lower inhibitions.
> 
> They should enjoy the good times while they last because M was right. There is something very wrong in James's court.


	6. Icy Relations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That joy of new friends and companions couldn't last. There's too much at play against James, Q, and Alec.

_One Month Later_

 

Tensions with Spain have, if anything, worsened in the first month Q spends as a member of James Bond’s court. It seems there’s a never ending procession of couriers bringing the king’s intent to declare war, to invade Britain. Even though he does not fear for his safety around the king, Q decides after the first week that James’s ire is not something he ever wants to incur. Ever.

“Mr. Silva. Is there _any_ news about Princess Vesper’s arrival?”

“She should be aboard a ship now, sir. She can’t be very far away.”

Silva’s response has been the same for _four weeks_ , and even Q has grown tired of the excuses. He wants to bring this up to James, but the king is more than a little preoccupied with his duties, and the vampire has a feeling that he knows the excuses are hollow. Silva is clearly stalling, and Q is starting to think he never contacted a princess, never sent for her. It feels like the Spaniard is deliberately setting them up for war. Perhaps he’s the one behind the plots against James, but Q can’t come to the king with a hunch. He needs proof.

And things would be easier if Alec weren’t behaving so peculiarly.

It starts ten days after meeting Q. James mentions something that’s clearly meant as an inside joke, something for Alec to chuckle with him over, but the man remains unmoved. It stops James in his tracks, and he turns around to stare at his best friend.

“Alec?”

The older man blinks a few times and focuses on James, a smile on his face that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Sorry, your majesty. I wasn’t listening.”

Now Q and James are both staring at him. “Alec, mate, what’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing, sir. Now, it’s time to hear the pleas of the common folk. Follow me, please.”

Both king and advisor follow with twin confused frowns on their faces. “Has he ever called you that before?”

“Never. Not even when we were children. He was always the first to join in when I would disparage my birthright.”

“Do you think Mallory might have told him off for unprofessional behavior?”

“Q, it’s Alec. He’s never let that get in the way of being my friend. My frequent lover,” he adds quietly. “I’m concerned. Maybe he’s taken ill.”

But as the weeks have passed, Alec has, if anything, gotten much, much worse. He never laughs or smiles anymore, and when Q manages to focus on Alec’s eyes for longer than a second (he can’t figure out why it’s so difficult), he can see how dull they look. He’s acting like he’s possessed, but Q can sense _nothing_ inhabiting him. No spirits, no demons, nothing, and the longer Alec remains withdrawn, the more strained James becomes. He’s losing the one person who has been a constant for his entire life; it’s a bond Q can’t hope to compete with, though he does everything he can to support the king. He can see how stiff James holds himself now, and they almost never flirt anymore. Is this what it is to lose someone by degrees?

Q keeps his feeding to a minimum, never draining the servants and always erasing memories after the fact. He still can’t shake that sensation of eyes on his back, but every time he turns around, there’s no one there. There’s _never_ anyone there. He takes to hiding in the shadows at night, especially as he keeps vigil over James. Q doesn’t have the faintest idea what to do, how he can help. If Alec were still part of their group, he might be doing better, but James is often choosing silence over conversation now.

Q doesn’t know how much more of this he can take.

***

Q takes his place by James’s side in the throne room when the royal trumpeters strike up a fanfare; someone has arrived. They look up as a small procession enters, several women surrounding another woman, veiled and downcast, led by Mr. Silva. James sits forward, frowning as he suspiciously eyes the Spaniard. “Can we help you today, Mr. Silva?”

“Indeed. May I introduce to you, her royal highness, Princess Vesper Lynd of Spain.”

He stands aside and the ladies in waiting to the sides of the woman lift her veil, throwing it back behind her. Q hears James’s sharp intake of breath as he beholds the princess for the first time.

As with everything it seems, Q can tell there’s something off about the woman, but he’s hard pressed to know what it is. She looks normal enough, but a glance around the room tells Q that every single man (save himself, Silva, and Alec) is drawn to her and her beauty. There’s a hint of color around her eyes, something dark and smoky. Her lips are blood red and shining, making Q think he should be looking for fangs, but she smiles and curtsies, and he can see there’s no hint of sharpness about her teeth. Her dress seems to be cut in the latest fashion, but it seems to lay just a tad too low on her upper chest, showing just a bit more of her neck than the dresses worn by the women of the court of England. She’s of a slender build, the sleeves and belt drawing attention to how thin she is. Q supposes that’s intended to be attractive.

The vampire doesn’t trust her, and he wants to say as much to James, but the king is curious, leaning forward, captivated. So Q keeps his silence while they exchange pleasantries. “Welcome to England, my lady. I hope you find everything to your liking.”

“I’m certain I shall, my lord.” Her voice is soft, ever so slightly melodic. Again, Q feels absolutely nothing for her, but he can feel how every piece of James’s body tries to move toward her, even as the man’s hands clench on the arms of his throne.

“I’ll show her to suitable chambers, your majesty,” Silva interjects, bowing to James in due deference. “We shall see you for supper tonight.”

Q can’t pull James from the chamber fast enough after that.

“You can’t trust her.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Q. Did you see her?”

“I did. Are you sure you saw the same creature? There’s something wrong here and you cannot listen to anything she has to say-”

“Q, you’re acting like a jealous lover. And you know full well you are nothing of the sort.”

The vampire freezes, staring up at James in shock and frustration and pain. “What?”

“You heard me. You’re jealous.”

“I am _not_. I’m doing my duty as your advisor, and I’m advising you very strongly that this match is asking for trouble and pain.”

James growls, shoving past Q and stalking down the corridor. “You don’t have the faintest idea what you’re talking about.”

“If Alec were still speaking to you-”

“But he isn’t. You aren’t allowed to use him to manipulate me.”

“James, that’s not what I’m trying to do! I’m trying to help you!”

“Go away, Q. Don’t come near me.”

The vampire fights back his reaction to run, pushing forward to grab James by the arm; the man recoils as if burned. “Are you deaf? I said go _away_.”

Q stands completely still as he watches James walk away, and something in his chest constricts. If he could still cry, he knows he would be. Instead, all he can feel is icy pain and isolation.

So it is possible to lose one’s family all over again. He hasn’t wanted to return to Drac this badly since arriving in England, and if he weren’t so determined to protect the king, he probably would leave, without a second thought.

***

Q keeps his nightly vigil in the shadows of James’s room, and for two days, nothing happens. Alec now stands guard outside the door for part of the night, and Q doesn’t dare disturb him. Having him move out of James’s chambers had been difficult enough. He doesn’t need the reminder that the joy from those first days is fast fading into nothing but pain and heartache.

The second night, Q decides to spy on James’s dreams. The process is very similar to scrying, and Q finds nothing there. He simply looks through a small window into discussions about politics and hunting… but the third night, he can sense a change immediately.

It’s the air that tips him off first. He can feel the heat in the room rising incrementally, and then he hears James moan softly, shifting in his sleep from his side to his back. It’s the name on the king’s lips that pushes Q to spy again.

“ _Vesper_.”

Q begins his magic, opening the window into James’s mind and looking. Sure enough, Vesper is there, her red dress much shorter and far more revealing than it had been in person. She’s kissing James, her blood mouth all over his, her hands sliding up and down his torso, and Q notices her nails: sharp, claw-like, blood red as well. He only knows of one creature that visits its victims like this, wielding sex as a weapon.

Vesper is a succubus.

Q pulls back, closing the window with his mind racing. A succubus is bad news even at the best of times, but if she manages to consummate a relationship with James, the king won’t live to see the spring. Or any future spring.

This is no longer just about protecting James. It’s now about protecting the kingdom. If James dies with no heir, the power could be taken by anyone with enough drive or desire. If Q doesn’t find a way to break the bond between them, then he’ll lose the blue-eyed man forever.

***

The biggest problem is that James is no longer speaking to him.

The king clearly thinks that after telling Q to scarper the other day, that he would. To continue seeing Q appear for work as his advisor only has him turning icier towards the vampire. Silva and Vesper are around a great deal as well, making plans and arrangements for the wedding. The word in connection to the succubus makes Q want to vomit. Q cannot manage to distract James from the work at hand, and when he catches a proper glimpse of the man’s face, he can see how glassy and grey James’s eyes have become. She’s clearly draining him of his energy already; a single orgasm with the creature and James will be done for. So Q paints a smile on and thinks through every way he can to try and get rid of her.

The quickest would be by exorcism, but despite Q’s best efforts and attempts to protect himself from religious relics, they still burn when he tries to touch them. Belief and faith are stronger than his own magics. He cannot remember which metals are most lethal to the succubus either. So that leaves him with fire. He will have to set the creature on fire.

Getting Vesper alone proves over the next two days to be more than a little impossible. She’s always with her retinue or with James or with James and Silva. The woman goes _nowhere_ without at least two people at her side.

Just as Q is beginning to entertain the idea that he may have to steal a cross from the chapel and risk the physical damage to his own skin, he spots Vesper slip away from the banquet in honor of her betrothal to James; they had officially announced it that afternoon. Q, unnoticed, slips away and follows her, keeping to the shadows.

She makes her way to the gardens, humming softly to herself until she reaches the person she’s come to talk to. Q stays one with the shadows in order to better spy, and he can see her face, eyes fixed on a man who has very pale, blond hair.

“It’s almost done. He’ll be mine tonight, and then he will die.”

“Good. This has taken far too long. Power, proper ruling power should have been in my grasp weeks ago.”

“It isn’t my fault you didn’t have the necessary items to summon me before then.”

“Necessary items? You wouldn’t come to me until I got Trevelyan sufficiently distracted.”

“He would have interfered. It’s simpler this way. Now go, you’ll be missed. I’m simply taking a turn about the garden to think about my coming wedding day.”

Silva turns and strides away, heading back into the castle, and Q’s mind is brimming with worries and questions, but first thing’s first. He has to deal with this threat. Now.

“I knew there was something wrong with you. It took me far too long to identify it.” Q steps from the shadows and solidifies to face Vesper. The succubus turns around slowly, her mouth twisted by the feral grin she shoots at Q.

“I wondered if you would come to me. I win even the most reluctant man over in the end,” she purrs, crooking her finger towards him. “I’ll have so much energy after tonight. Your precious king will be dead by morning. His will is _mine_ , and he will do anything I want. Anything I ask.”

“And all this? It’s just intended to help Silva gain power?”

“Not just power. The _crown_.”

Q’s eyes narrow and he rolls his shoulders back slowly. “You made several mistakes, succubus,” he growls softly, walking towards her. “The first was agreeing to steal power. The second was going after James. And the third?” He stops, barely a foot away from her. “You underestimated _me_.”

He raises his arms, energy flowing down them as he sets Vesper’s dress alight, spreading the blaze to her skin, her hair, the demon within her breast. He doesn’t stop until every inch of her in burning in a bright, red flame.

Q can’t stop her scream.

The creature opens her mouth and lets loose a shriek worthy of a banshee, a pained and terrifying cry that’s sure to draw guards to their location. Q melts back into the shadows as the guards arrive, shouting orders.

“Get water.”

“We have to put out the blaze.”

“Watch out!”

The creature explodes outward, then implodes, sucking the fire into the small vortex where her heart should be until the flames are no more and all that’s left of her presence is a fine layer of red dust on the grass. Q exhales slowly, not realizing that he’d been holding his breath. He turns to make his way up to James’s chambers by way of the shadows when he hears one of the guards ask, “What was that? What could have done this?”

The other guard sounds like stone when he speaks. “ _Witchcraft_.”

***

Q abandons shadow travel and flat out teleports to James’s location. The man is in the council room, so the vampire appears outside the door and comes striding in, all ready to divulge the plot, but seeing the king stops him.

James’s color is coming back. A single glance to his eyes confirms it, and Q can see exactly how quickly the color and vibrance return to James’s gaze. “Q? What… what’s been happening? I feel like I’ve been dreaming. Like I’ve been sleepwalking. How is this possible?”

The words are on the tip of his tongue, but Q can’t bring himself to tell James that he’s been bewitched. He can’t risk the heresy that comes along with magic. So he improvises. “You aren’t safe. I believe there’s a plot against you.” He’s struggling to remember why he’s saying this. He had a good reason just a second ago.

“Why? Q, why do you think this?”

“I-it’s-call it a hunch. I have a feeling. M did too, and she warned me as much.” What had Q been about to say? He’s searching through his mind and the past few moments in his memory when the door bangs open, Alec striding in.

“Vesper Lynd is dead.”

It’s a simple thing for Q to feign shock at the news, allowing him to focus on James’s reaction to the guard’s words. Instead of mourning and laments, James’s entire body hardens a bit. His posture stiffens, his eyes turn to ice, all cold and pain. “Are you positive?”

“She was set on fire, sir. She was murdered, and the men are saying it’s witchcraft. I’m to escort you to your chambers.”

“Wait, witchcraft? Here? In England?”

Q tries to make himself invisible, unseen. Neither one of them have the faintest idea what he’s capable of, but still. He can see the worry in James’s eyes.

“Yes, sir. Witchcraft. Now, I need you to follow me.”

James stands and follows Alec, not sparing Q another glance. The vampire follows, heading past the king and into his own chamber. If Alec is going to try and keep them apart, Q is going to have to get creative. Moving through shadows, he waits in James’s room until the king finally falls asleep. Q begins to murmur, putting up protection around them before opening a scrying window into James’s dreams. Without hesitating, he steps through and enters the dream himself.

He finds himself in the clearing with the waterfall from his own memories. The flowers are every bit as fragrant as when he was there, the mist from the waterfall cool on his face.

“Q.” He turns to see James, dressed only in breeches and an open shirt. “I’ve not seen you in my dreams for days, haven’t I. They’ve all been… they’ve all been Vesper.” He takes Q’s hand, kissing the knuckles. “I’ve missed your company.”

“You dream of me often?”

“I’ve dreamed of you most nights since we met.”

“You’re not safe. There’s danger all around you.”

“I don’t care. None of that can reach us here.”

“But… but if you die…”

“I won’t. You’re not always this flustered. It’s rather adorable.”

Q looks up at him, eyes wide as he realizes just how close they are, how small the gap is between them. “James…”

“Don’t speak. Not now.”

The king closes the distance between them and kisses Q. He threads his fingers in the vampire’s soft, downy hair, licking into his mouth and snogging him thoroughly.

Q throws his arms around James’s shoulders, kissing back enthusiastically as the last details of what he’d witnessed earlier erase themselves from his mind. He knows they should be worried, but he doesn’t remember why. James is kissing him, and that’s all that matters.

“But James,” he whispers, surfacing because even in dreams, he knows humans have to dream. “It’s just a dream.”

“Then it is a good dream,” the king murmurs, claiming Q’s lips in another kiss under the waterfall, surrounded by wildflowers and foreign birdsong with a heart mostly unburdened but itching with the feeling that something or someone has stolen something from his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't actually know what it would look like when a succubus dies. I liked the visual drama of imploding.


	7. Fire and Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone is still trying to kill James, and Alec is only growing more distant by the day.
> 
> If Q doesn't get to feed soon, he might not be able to protect them anymore.

Q withdraws from James’s dreams once the man sinks deeper into sleep, and he resumes his nightly vigil by the king’s bed. His real lips still tingle from James’s deep, insistent kisses in the dream; Q had underestimated just how good those would be. Bond knew _exactly_ what he was doing. The way he’d held Q’s head, applied slight pressure one way or the other as he took control of the kiss, how Q had felt giddy and breathless in a way he hadn’t in decades. It had taken everything he had to pull away when James had surfaced for air.

“I have to go. Please James. Remember. I’m here to help you. You can trust me.”

He’d all but fled, enchanting James to stay asleep and rest, to recover his strength from Vesper’s attacks. Q feels the space in his chest where his heart used to beat aching, and he knows he’s falling for the king. He needs to protect James, keep him safe… because Q isn’t sure that he wants to live in a world where this amazing man doesn’t exist. He wants to kiss those lips for real, away from the danger surrounding them. Q has to figure this out. He has to find out what’s going on, and he still feels like something is missing from his memory, but he doesn’t have the faintest idea what that might be.

***

The next morning, James doesn’t say a word to Q of the dream he’d had the night before, and the vampire can’t figure out why. The king greets him just like always, he’s cordial and polite, but there’s no mention of any kiss, any intimacy. Q feels like they’ve taken several steps backwards, and he doesn’t dare bring it up. So, instead he turns his attentions to Alec over the next few days, observing everything he can. If he can bring Alec back, then maybe James will open up again.

Trevelyan’s behavior, to someone who didn’t know him, would simply suggest that he’s a duty bound member of the Kingsguard who is tasked with protecting James. But Q knows Alec well from the ten days that seem a lifetime ago, of sneaking around the castle with the two men, of sword fighting and eating in trees and teasing. Alec’s posture then had been relaxed and easy; now it’s ramrod straight. He stares ahead, unblinking, and when Q finally manages to focus on the man’s eyes, he can see it. Why hadn’t he noticed before?! The vibrance and life behind those eyes is dull, like a garment drained of color. It reminds him too much of how the blue of James’s eyes had vanished when Vesper tried to take him.

Alec is being controlled. He’s not possessed, but controlled. Someone has stolen his will. Someone is giving him orders, and that someone is powerful enough to put up some kind of glamor to keep others from noticing. Q needs to find out who and soon.

At dinner that night, Q takes his usual seat by James and picks at his food; he spends far too much energy now suppressing his thirst. He desperately wants to feed, but every time he does, he can feel eyes on him. He knows someone is spying on him. If he could think just a little clearer, maybe he could see what connection he’s missing, but he can’t think clearly if he doesn’t feed, and he can’t feed without constantly looking over his shoulder.

One of the servants brings out a platter with goblets of wine to start the evening, setting them down in front of each person sitting at the table. Q isn’t paying much attention initially, but then the scent of bitter almonds overwhelms his nose and he has to fight the urge to gag. Casting his eyes around the table, he pinpoints the scene and feels like his insides freeze.

It's in James’s goblet.

Q doesn’t even think. He exhales, keeps his hands under the table while he summons his magic, and knocks the goblet over, away from James and onto the floor.

The king jumps up, moving away from the puddle of wine on the stones beneath his chair, and Q relaxes a little. Frowning, he looks around the table again. Everyone is there, including all the ministers, Silva, and a few noblewomen who are visiting the court. Q turns his eyes to the guards and sees Alec missing from the lineup-and there he is, striding in from the direction of the kitchens. The vampire has to fight an overwhelming urge to drop his fangs and attack the guard, but he forces himself to remember. _Alec’s being controlled. He’s being controlled. He’s being controlled_.

He doubles the strength of his protection spells around James during the night.

***

By the time they reach the end of the week, Q is so strung thin from denying his instincts and using magic to protect James, that it takes the king almost nothing to convince him to come hunting with the royal party. Q probably would have followed anyway, just to keep an eye on James, but this way will be easier. Or it would be if the horses didn’t get skittish around him.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with them,” James muses, trying to calm his own, a beautiful chestnut named Aston.

“Horses have never really liked me. I think I’m too afraid of falling off.”

“You’ll ride with me, then.”

Q’s eyes snap up to James, watching the king check his saddle before offering Q his hand. “Come on, then.”

The vampire swallows and takes the hand, letting James boost him up onto the horse. He can feel Aston getting ready to buck again, so he sends a tiny tendril of magic through the animal, enough to fool it into thinking he’s human. He’s already so tired that he doesn’t notice the faint splotches of black in his vision. He’s stretched far too thin, he’s too thirsty, and then to have James pressed up against his back, easily holding him close is nearly more than the vampire can handle.

An hour later, the party is deep in the forest. They’ve set up camp and are moving through the woods, following rather large boar tracks. Q slips away from the party when he feels the vibrations of a warren nearby. It takes him two minutes to drain three rabbits and another thirty seconds to scrub the blood from his skin; while it isn’t human blood, it does the trick, taking the edge off his fatigue enough that he’ll be able to keep himself in check. He returns to the party, sword in hand just as the boar comes charging out of the undergrowth.

James is ready for it. He dodges out of the way as two of his men loose arrows at the beast, giving him enough time to dive and stab his sword up through the creature’s hide and into its heart. The animal screams, thrashing and threatening to trample James as he scrambles back, but it’s losing too much blood. It stumbles, then lays still.

Q stares at it, the scent of fresh blood making his mouth water. James pulls himself to his feet, thrusts his bloody sword to the sky, and shouts in triumph. The others take up the cheer, making the surrounding air ring with their cries. A few birds in the branches above them take to startled flight. Q watches James and sees the hint of joy and something more on his face until he remembers that it was a boar that killed his father. The vampire smiles slightly, watching as the guards take up the animal and drag it back to their camp.

***

Q sits by the fire after sundown, slowly chewing on his piece of roasted boar and watching how the flames dance and crackle. Even as a newborn vampire, he’d been fascinated with fire, determined to protect himself from its death sentence so he could enjoy the warmth and beauty of fire in his immortality. It had taken Q nearly a year to strengthen his personal protection spells enough to sit closer than ten feet away, and it has been worth every second of hard work now. He sighs and takes another bite of food, looking around the sleepy camp. Most of the men are in their tents, bellies full and letting sleep take them, but not James. The king is sitting just at the mouth of his own tent, watching the fire much like Q is and turning one of the boar’s tusks over and over in his hands.

It takes Q a moment to realize that a hush has fallen over the camp, that even the nighttime bugs have stopped their chirping. He sees Alec striding toward James, hands clenched into fists.

“James! Look out!”

The king sees the blow only seconds before it would land, and he throws his arm up to block it. Alec is staring down with dull, nearly lifeless eyes, a bloodthirsty scowl twisting his features into something inhuman. James feels a surge of fear before his own features harden.

Q scrambles up, ready to run to James’s side, but the king manages to stand, shoving the guard backward. “What is wrong with you?!”

Alec doesn’t answer; Q doesn’t expect him to. Instead, James’s best friend attacks with new vigor, trying to land blow after blow, but he and James have sparred often enough as children and young men that the king can block or duck them all. It’s like they’re locked in a vicious, deadly dance. The boar’s tusk lays forgotten on the ground, dropped when James stood to defend himself.

“Alec, listen to me! Whatever is happening right now, this isn’t you! We’re blood brothers, remember?”

James holds up his hand, and Q can see the faint scar across the palm. Alec blinks and looks to his own hand, and in that single second, it’s like he’s returned to himself. For a moment, the life is back in his eyes. James extends his hand, taking Alec’s firmly. “It’s okay.”

He doesn’t see Alec reach for his boot when he stands.

But Q does.

The vampire extends his hand and sends a little tendril of magic toward Alec’s ankle, almost identical to the unintended spell he’d used on his best friend when he was but a child, all to win a stupid race. The blade swings wide, flying into the trunk of a nearby tree as Alec stumbles and falls. Neither James nor Q is fast enough to stop his descent as he lands with the right hand side of his body in the flames.

James yells in disbelief and Q hurries to where the king is dragging Alec from the fire. The man is screaming in pain, clutching at his face as they struggle to put the fire out. The camp is suddenly alive, men running around and shouting orders. Someone dumps a bucket of water over the king and Alec, dousing the last of the flames. Trevelyan falls unconscious, and Q can hear the man’s heart racing, stuttering. “James, James we have to get him back to the castle. _Now_.”

The king nods, and two of the guards run to his side, helping to bind Alec to one of the horses. Q insists on riding with him, to help keep him stable. He also takes advantage of close proximity to probe Alec’s mind. _There_! It’s small, a weak little tendril now, but he can see the sickly purple energy clinging to the man’s mind. The fire must have broken some of the hold on him; it takes almost nothing to snip the final piece of _otherness_ controlling Alec.

For the briefest moment, Q can see him, can see the face contorted with rage, pale blond hair sticking up where the man is tearing at it, and then it’s gone and he can’t remember. He holds tight to Alec and urges the horse forward. “Hold on, Alec. Hold on for James. For-for me.”

He knows he doesn’t have the energy to spare, can barely summon enough magic to protect himself, so he drops his spells to shield himself from the sun and uses that magic instead, pouring into Alec to slow his body, to give him the time to heal. “Hold on.”

***

“These burns are fairly extensive,” Tanner murmurs as he examines the wounds that, with Alec shirtless, Q and James can see cover the right side of his face, neck, shoulder and upper arm. They’re not bad enough to have burned the flesh away entirely, but he’ll certainly be scarred if he manages to survive. The apothecary crushes a few more herbs into his bowl, making a salve that he then smears carefully over the damaged skin. “I’m not sure if or when he will wake, though I will do everything in my power to save his life, but you need to be prepared, your Highness. He might not pull through. How did this happen, anyway?”

“He tripped. He was too close to the fire and his foot slipped into a gopher hole. I wasn’t close enough to pull him back.”

Q knows it’s a partial lie, and he sneaks a look at James; the man is protecting Alec even through all of this. He sees James take Alec’s right hand, clasping it with his own. “ _Blood brothers_ ,” he murmurs. It clicks, then, seeing a mirrored scar on Alec’s palm. They must have done some kind of blood ritual as children, and magic that powerful would be able to help counteract whatever spell had been controlling Alec. It wasn’t just the fire; it was James’s love for his dearest friend that might just have saved him.

“If I might have a word.”

Q startles at hearing James’s voice so close to his ear, but he nods and follows the man from the room with one last glance at where Alec lies sleeping. The vampire rubs his face with his hands, tired and drained beyond all measure. He’s going to have to feed now; he’s running on empty. They reach James’s chambers, and the king holds the door for Q, locking it behind him once they’re both inside.

“I think I’m losing it, Q. That wasn’t the Alec I know at all. Did you see his eyes? They-they’d gone dull. I don’t know what’s going on or why he’s been different lately, but that _wasn’t him_. I should bloody know what to do. We’re blood brothers. We have been since we were little.”

“I saw the scar in the infirmary. And I believe you. Alec hasn’t been himself in the slightest.”

“Do you know what it is? Do you have any theory? Know of any reason? Because if you do now is the time. I can’t leave my kingdom in danger any longer.”

“I do. But you won’t believe me.

“Try me.”

“Only if you swear not to have me executed for treason or heresy.”

James’s eyes narrow, but he nods. “All right.”

Q pinches the bridge of his nose tiredly. He lifts his hands and casts the protection spell around the room, making it as strong as he’s able before clicking his fingers and sending James to sleep; then it’s simply a matter of slipping into the king’s dreams, unsurprised to find them both back in the waterfall clearing. He sees James’s surprised expression and sighs. “It’s easier to talk in dreams. A far greater chance we won’t be overheard.”

“I dreamed of you before, a week ago. I kissed you… were-was it like this?”

“You mean was I walking in your dreams? Yes. It was after Vesper. I wanted to make sure you were all right. I know I overheard something important but I can’t remember _what_. Whoever is behind this must be more powerful than I am because no matter what I do, I can’t hold my conclusions in my mind.”

“More powerful? Q, you speak like there’s more going on here than just a plot to steal my crown.”

“James… and this is why I don’t want you freaking out on me… I think there’s magic involved. And the reason I think this… is because I am. Magic. I was born with the gift and then I trained in it until… until I changed. And I’ve been training with it still my whole life. A bit longer than the twenty years I think I gave you when we met. But I think someone was controlling Alec with magic. I think your blood brother bond helped break the enemy’s hold somewhat. I managed to sever the last piece of magic and protect Alec’s mind. And hopefully he’ll be allowed to heal as well. Vesper too. She was a demon. A succubus. Had you consummated your relationship with her, you would have died. I’m responsible for her death… and for Alec’s burns. I only tried to trip him. I didn’t mean for him to fall into the fire.” Q falls silent, staring up fearfully at the king.

So many things are flickering across James’s face that it’s hard to know where to start. There’s shock, denial as well, then a frown as he processes everything Q has said to him thus far. “You say that you changed. You studied magic until you changed. Into what?”

“Ah… well…” Q sighs and lets his fangs descend and eyes glow red, not too difficult with how thirsty he is. “Until I was turned into a vampire. Vlad… he’s my creator. And when I came back to England after my transformation, there was nothing left for me here. My mentor tried to murder me, my family taken by plague and bandits. So I returned to Romania and lived with him, traveled with him for the past… for the past two centuries. I’m two hundred and twenty-five years old, give or take. If I weren’t so damn thirsty I could probably tell you to the minute, but every time I’ve fed recently I’ve felt like someone is watching me. I don’t feel safe here. I’m positive whatever is after you resides in the castle.”

James steps forward and places his finger to Q’s lips, silencing him. “I’m sorry you had to go through all that as a child… I just lost my parents and I can barely hold myself together. You were so young.” He then traces finger down each fang curiously, feeling how smooth the teeth are. “They’re beautiful,” he murmurs.

That is the last thing Q expects him to say. “Are-do you mean that?”

“Yes, Q. I do.” James meets his gaze and doesn’t waver. “I’ll admit, seeing your magic and hearing you confess that you can do magic are a bit shocking.” He smirks a little. “The church ingrains the evils of witchcraft in our heads from such a young age. But all you’ve done is try to protect me and keep me safe.” He strokes his fingers down Q’s cheekbones now. “I don’t mind that you’re a vampire, either. I’ve always told Alec that creatures like you had to exist. He’ll be so jealous…” James trails off as if realizing what he’s said.

“I did some healing on him while we rode back, put him in a magically induced sleep so he can heal… and I have protection spells on you and ones around your room and on myself so I can walk in the sunlight… I’m so thirsty. I’m so drained.”

“Drink from me.”

Q’s head snaps up as he looks James right in the eye. “And if I lose control? If I take too much? If I leave England unable to defend herself?”

“You won’t. I trust you. And I want to remember all this too. I don’t want to forget. I want to remember who and what you are.”

“What am I, James? A heretic? A magician? A monster?”

“You’re the man who saved my life. There’s a great many things I would do differently if given the chance, and one of them would have been charming you into my bed much sooner than this. Under different circumstances, I would have shared you happily with Alec as well. I want this, Q. I want to help you heal. If you stretch yourself too thin, you might leave yourself unable to protect or help. Then where would we be?”

“I’m going to wake you up now. I need to hear your consent fully awake.” Q clicks his fingers and steps from James’s dream, coaxing the man from his magical sleep. He perches on the bed as James sits up, turning to look at him. Q can see his blue eyes shining in the darkness of the room.

“I definitely want this, Q. And if it means you won’t have to go out hunting, then all the more reason to keep me close.”

“I’ve not killed since I arrived. I drank a little here and there. I broke down and drained a few rabbits today, trying to take the edge off.”

James pulls off his own shirt, baring the near flawless skin of his torso, save for a few scar here and there. “Training injuries.”

“They’re beautiful… you’re beautiful.” Q moves to sit in James’s lap, cupping his face with one hand. “Once the initial bite happens, it’s going to feel really good. You can touch me all you want, but if you want anything else to happen, you’ll have to wait until I’m done.”

“We could start with everything else, you know,” James purrs, eyes wickedly gleaming now. “In fact, I want to finish what we started. You left the dream… you faded and I couldn’t find you. Oh how I wanted you then. How I want you now.” He takes Q’s hand and guides it to his groin, pressing the vampire’s hand against his cock. “You do this to me. Until everything started going pear shaped, I thought of nothing but you beneath me. Of me inside you. I want this, every bit as much as you do.”

Q’s eyes flash red, making James’s eyes widen, and the vampire chuckles. “I’m magic, I’m immortal, and technically I’m undead. Are you sure?”

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

Q crushes their mouths together then, kissing James as hard as he can without actually hurting the human. He parts his lips and the king’s tongue slips past them, licking into his mouth and drawing deep, breathy moans from the vampire. There’s something so freeing about it all, in this moment. James knows who and what he is. He doesn’t have to hide that from the man anymore. Even with all the danger outside the room, right here in this space they’re as safe as Q can make it. And once James gets his fingers back into Q’s hair, the man’s a goner.

Bond chuckles and tugs, delighting at the gasp of want it pulls from Q. “Delightful,” he purrs, mouthing down Q’s neck to suck and nip at the cold skin. “Being a vampire explains why you’re so cool to the touch. We both wondered about that.”

“I’m told it feels wonderful. I’ve had a few human lovers before, nothing long or drawn out and usually as a means to feeding-oh _fuck_ , James” Q groans, head falling back as James bites at his neck and scratches down his back.

“Too many clothes.”

They both scramble to undress, throwing discarded items to the floor until they’re both bare, Q still in James’s lap and the man utterly transfixed. “What I feel for you,” James murmurs. “That’s real, isn’t it? This isn’t a spell?”

Q kisses him gently and rests his hand over where the king’s heart beats steadily in his chest. “It’s real. I will never use magic to control you or take your agency away. If I do use it during feeding, it’s to make sure the other party stays calm and doesn’t scream. I don’t really want to die. But I always get consent. And with you… you have no idea how delicious you smell.” He presses his nose into James’s shoulder and just breathes for a moment, remembering a few days before. “I’m the one who knocked your goblet over. I smelled poison.”

“I wondered what had happened. I never touched the goblet.”

“I could smell the same stuff that killed M. I wouldn’t let that happen to you.” He looks up at James, still expecting to find some kind of reluctance or doubt. “You really do want this, don’t you.”

“Q, I want _you_. Very much so, especially now that we’re naked.”

The vampire smirks. “Oil, please.”

James frowns slightly but hands him the jar he keeps by his bed. Q dips his fingers in before sitting back and spreading his legs. “Watch,” he orders before sliding his fingers down to his arse and working a single digit inside himself. He groans, twisting and pumping it slowly while James watches with rapt attention, his own hand slowly stroking his cock. Q looks fucking stunning, spread and fucking himself with one finger, adding a second one sooner than James would have thought possible. The young vampire runs his free hand across his torso, flicking at his nipples, then down to his cock to stroke himself a few times. He begins to scissor his fingers as he adds a third, moaning a little louder now with want. When he looks up at the king, he knows his green eyes will be nearly black with lust, especially since there’s so little blue left in James’s eyes.

“Enough. I want you _now_ ,” Bond growls.

“Have you always been so impatient?” Q teases, removing his fingers so he can slick James up with the oil. The king moans and rocks into the touch, almost not noticing that Q is in his lap and hovering over him. “Ready?”

James grips Q’s hips, holding him steady, and nods.

With a moan that turns quickly to a whine of pure need, Q sinks down onto James’s cock, taking him all the way into his body. He feels how the king’s heartbeat stutters and skips, feels every pulse and throb of the deliciously warm cock inside him, and when he rocks his hips, James’s grip on him tightens. Q wipes his hands on the bed and pulls James in for a kiss as he begins to rock in his lap, riding the king. “I prefer this to riding on horseback any day,” he purrs before James snaps up his hips and makes Q shudder with pleasure.

“I bet you do, little minx. Especially since you ride so well. And in answer to your earlier question, _yes_. I’ve always been terribly impatient for things I _want_.” He seals their mouths together in a searing kiss, thrusting up as Q grinds down. They find their rhythm after a few minutes, James eagerly running his hands up Q’s back to pull on his luscious hair and the vampire ever so lightly scratching his nails along James’s scalp. They move together slowly, undulating in the darkness until neither one of them can stand the slow slide anymore.

“I need more, James _please._ ”

The king doesn’t need telling twice. He grips Q’s hips once more and begins fucking up sharply into his lover, watching as the pleasure pours through Q, leaving him speechless and desperate. James keeps going, adjusting his angle and slamming into Q’s prostate. _That_ has the vampire coming for him, eyes snapping open blood red. Before James can pull back, Q leans forward and bites his neck to drink his blood. It stings at first, but soon the pain melts into a kind of pleasure James has never felt before in his life. It’s burning, intense, and he’s still thrusting up into Q while the vampire clenches around him and he comes hard, harder than he ever has in his life with Q’s name on his tongue as he sees stars.

The vampire smirks, drinking slow and deep from his new lover, and he can feel his energy replenishing, returning fast enough to leave him buzzed. He maybe takes a quarter of James’s blood, but it’s enough. He licks at the wounds when he pulls back, urging them to heal with a little kiss of magic, and then they both collapse to the bed, drunk on blood (for Q) and orgasms (for James).

The king doesn’t mean to fall asleep. He wants to tell Q how he feels, how much he cares and appreciates everything, but his eyes feel like lead, and they fall closed. The vampire smiles and kisses James’s forehead, laying by his side for a few hours before rising. He cleans them both up and tucks James in, leaving no trace of their affair. As much as he wants to stay, he knows he can’t. Not tonight, not when there’s so much still at stake. Q checks to make sure he’s left no marks on James before retreating to the shadows. He spends the rest of the night fixing his protection spells, refining them to keep him safe from the sunlight. He’s still standing there, obscured in the corner when James wakes.

The king blinks a few times as sunlight streams through his window onto his pillow. He groans and stretches, lazily rolling over to… an empty bed. He frowns, touching the pillow and finding it cold. “Q?”

The vampire moves through the shadows to James’s window to slip away, but as he climbs out, he looks back and sees the king watching him. Q smiles, blows him a kiss, and vanishes back to his room. James stares at the now empty space and touches his neck where hours before, Q had been drinking from him. When James had realized exactly what he feels for his new lover.

Q slips into his own room and closes the shutters on the window. He runs a hand through his hair and slowly takes stock. He’s still sore (oh well done James), and his thirst is quenched for now. It’s time to focus. It’s time to end this. “All right then, whoever you are,” he murmurs as he gets dressed in his black doublet. “Time to see what you’re really made of. Because he’s _mine_ and you’ll have to go through me to get to him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty sure the title from this is also linked to Game of Thrones. I don't remember why. I felt like it fit properly.


	8. A Snake in the Grass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Death is just another form of rebirth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Some violence/torture; the "C" word used as an insult

_He’s not fast enough, not strong enough. He’s pushing with all his might and he barely manages to move the lance from its course. It strikes James in the shoulder, piercing the flesh with a horrible, wet ripping sound; the king is unseated and falls from his horse to hit the ground with a sickening crunch of bones and armor. The scent of blood slams into Q, and it’s almost more than he can stand. His lover is dying and there’s not enough_ time _._

***

The next week sees Q spending most of his time working on his protection spells, strengthening and refining them to be as unobtrusive and as powerful as possible, but even then he’s not sure it’s enough. He knows whoever is behind it all will try again. He knows they won’t stop until James is dead and cold in the ground; Q refuses to even believe that’s a possibility. He will do whatever it takes to protect his lover because now he’s even more sure that he won’t want to live in a world that doesn’t include James Bond. Not that the king is making his job easier.

“We should host a tournament.”

“James, there was one little more than a month ago to celebrate your coronation. Is it wise to host another one so soon?”

“The kingdom needs some diversion. Perhaps we can invite some Spanish knights as well, a gesture of goodwill since the wedding is absolutely not happening now.”

Q cringes at the thought of the demon bitch that had nearly murdered James and sighs reluctantly. “All right. But in your honor, all right?”

“Oh no. No, I want to compete in one of the bouts. I’ve been far too cooped up for too long, and with Alec still sleeping… no, I want to ride.”

“As your advisor, I have to express how extraordinarily bad this idea is. It’s too dangerous and we still haven’t caught whoever is trying to kill you.”

“But I have you. You’ll protect me.”

The vampire feels tendrils of anxiety curl in his stomach at the mere idea of so much responsibility. “You’re putting a lot of stock in my abilities.”

“Q, I trust you. You’re probably the only person I do trust right now. But I’m competing in the joust and that’s that.”

Q nods and sighs, taking down more notes to give to the appropriate parties involved in arranging and organizing it. “It won’t happen immediately. You’ll need time for the knights to travel here.”

“How long?”

“At least a week to send out the notices, probably two to be safe. Another one to two weeks for the knights to arrive. So at least a month.”

“Do it, then.”

***

The next month passes quickly with the tournament preparations, interspersed with visits to Alec’s sick chamber and late night secret trysts with the king. Q keeps Alec sleeping as his burns heal, even when James begs him to wake the man.

“No. Whoever took control of him knows what he means to you. No one can touch him right now but you or me and that’s all the protection I can really offer him. Besides, if he stays asleep while he’s healing, he doesn’t have to be in any pain from the burns.”

James rests his hand on Alec’s, squeezing gently. “I miss him, Q. I’ve missed him for weeks now. I’ve never known life without him.”

“I know. Your bond is so obvious, so powerful. It isn’t severed. I promise.”

Q spends most of his nights in James’s bed, either talking with the king and sharing every memory he can of his own vast life experiences or deep in sexual congress with the man. James continues to insist Q drink from him to stay strong, and each time is better than the last, if it’s possible. Every time he sinks his fangs into James’s neck, it’s like the first time. The man’s lifeblood floods Q’s mouth, the vampire’s eyes glowing red as he drinks deeply. Even though he wants nothing more than to lose himself, it’s in those moments when Q is most in control. He refuses to take too much, even when James is begging for him to or growing hard from the rush of chemicals in vampire saliva that make the whole experience pleasurable. Q still never stays the night in the king’s bed, preferring to stand vigil inside the room once James is asleep and leave at dawn.

Until the night before the tournament. James is restless and eager that night, dragging Q to his bed and pinning the vampire beneath him (Q lets him, doesn’t have the heart to tell James that he could easily switch their positions and barely have to use any of his strength at all). He fucks into Q slowly at first, keeping his lover spread wide before driving into him as hard as he is physically able. He manages to pull an orgasm from Q before following him over the edge and collapsing next to him on the bed. It’s the first time they’ve coupled without Q drinking from James to make him come.

“What was that for?” the vampire murmurs, tracing his fingers over James’s biceps.

“For luck. For tomorrow and the tournament. And to prove to you I’m not as fragile as I know you think I am.”

“James, you’re human. That makes you fragile by definition.”

“Stay tonight. Let me hold you?”

“I-James what if someone-”

“No one will come in. All the guards are on strict orders to leave me be. I’m competing tomorrow after all. A king needs his beauty rest.” He smirks and kisses his lover, stroking his fingers through Q’s addictively soft hair. “Besides, I know I’m falling in love with you. I want to spend tonight with the man of my dreams in my arms?”

“I thought Alec was the man of your dreams,” Q says carefully, ignoring the way James’s words make him feel like his heart is beating again.

“I love Alec. I always have and always will. But I also love you. I’ve loved him my whole life, but I’ve fallen in love with you.”

“It’s incredibly sentimental.”

“Will you give me your handkerchief for good luck tomorrow?”

Q smacks him on the arm as James cracks up with laughter. “I’m not some flighty damsel.”

“Perhaps not. But I’m riding in your honor.”

“James-”

“Kiss me. Stay tonight. Say you’ll stay.”

“All right. I’ll stay.”

***

Q stays by James’s side as the king prepares for the joust, acting as squire as he helps him into his armor. “Are you sure you want to do this? Really sure? I know they’ve started the joust, they’re a few bouts in already, but… I don’t doubt your strength or skill, but you’re putting yourself at great risk.”

James ruffles the vampire’s hair before fitting his helm in place. “Q. Stop worrying. I’m going to be fine. Besides. You’re my good luck charm.”

“Oh, that reminds me.” From his belt, Q pulls a small, embroidered handkerchief with his family’s crest: a cow in front of an oak tree. “I made this. It’ll bring you luck.” He hands it to James with a small smile. “You teased the other night about carrying something of mine while you joust.”

The king glances around before pulling Q into a kiss, the vampire giggling as his face bumps into James’s helm. “Thank you, Q.” He tucks the little scrap of fabric into his armor next to his heart. “I’ll make myself worthy to carry it.”

“I know you will. Let me go see if they’re ready for your bout.” Q slips from the tent and heads out to the field, glimpsing the end of Eve’s joust against one of the Spanish knights. Her lance lands squarely against her opponent’s chest, unseating him and sending him to the ground as the crowd cheers. Q finds Mallory, tapping him on the shoulder. “Time for the next bout?”

“Indeed. As soon as they clear the field.”

The vampire nods and looks to where the next Spanish knight stands by his horse. He sees Silva next to him, the two deep in conversation. He tries to focus his hearing and listen in, only to find he can’t make out a single word. Frowning, he tries harder but to no avail.

“Are we ready?”

James startles Q out of his trance, the vampire nodding and helping the king onto his horse. “Yes, yes we are.” He turns and looks back as Silva moves away from the knight; suddenly, Q can hear everything around the other jouster. He frowns again and turns to look at Silva. Something is wrong…

Mallory checks with both sides, signaling the men are ready to begin. Q’s still looking at Silva, staring at him when the man meets his gaze.

And smiles.

And everything comes rushing back to Q. All the missing memories, all the flashes of intuition and overheard conversations. It’s been _Silva_ all along!

Q turns to see James spur his horse forward, leveling his lance at the Spanish knight; one glance at the other man tells Q his lance is tipped, not dull. No no no no no NO! Q throws his magic at the Spanish knight only to find it blocked. Silva has magic, of course he does. He’s been three steps ahead of Q the whole time. He knew James would want to compete. The king is going to die!

He’s not fast enough, not strong enough. He’s pushing with all his might and he barely manages to move the lance from its course. It strikes James in the shoulder instead of the heart, piercing the flesh with a horrible, wet ripping sound; the king is unseated and falls from his horse to hit the ground with a sickening crunch of bones and armor. The wound isn’t instantly fatal but it’s mortal enough. The scent of blood slams into Q and it’s almost more than he can stand. His lover is dying and there’s not enough _time_.

Time.

Everything stops.

***

It takes him a few moments to realize what he’s done. His arms are flung out from his body like he’s being crucified, head tipped back towards the sky, a conduit for magic. It flows from his body in a rush, blanketing the field, the stands, the riders, himself, and Silva. _You’re more powerful than you know, boy_. The vampire’s lip twitches ever so slightly as the bittersweet memory of Merlin’s voice springs to mind. _I know I am, teacher, but could you ever have imagined it would be like this?_

The Spaniard is no longer smiling, and apart from Q, he’s the only one able to move. Even the sun and clouds have halted their course through the sky as the vampire freezes time itself. He begins to walk towards Silva as magic crackles around him like lightning; the air itself is charged as sparks fly outward from the vampire. The mage. Q.

Silva tries to flee, but Q clicks his fingers and earthen tendrils creep from the field and ensnare his legs up to the knees. “You aren’t going _anywhere_ ,” he says quietly. It’s almost a whisper, but he knows the other man can hear him.

“How is it your eyes turn red but you aren’t a demon or a spirit?”

Q blinks, realizing how close he is to bloodlust and what he must look like to the man. So he lets his fangs drop, relishing the look of surprise on Silva’s face. “Vampyr… how can you-”

“Walk in the sun? Stand in the light when I’m a creature of the night? Let me answer with a question of my own: how am I able to stop time, you _cunt_?”

Silva growls in return but knows the answer. “Because you’re a mage. I should have known when Vesper disappeared.”

“Burned with enchanted fire, actually. So you’re the snake who’s been slithering around under my nose. Distraction spells? Memory erasure? Mind control? You’ve been a busy little viper.”

“You complicated matters. Interfering, getting in the way. But see how your precious lover lays dying. Not such a clever little boy now, are you? You never should have interfered. Everything was set in place when his parents died. And then his advisor. I should have been his ear.”

“Usurped the throne when he died? So you isolated him?” The man has just about admitted to killing King Andrew and Queen Monique like it’s nothing. And he’s smiling again.

“It took longer than anticipated to ensnare his guard, but he was my puppet.”

“Until the hunting trip. Didn’t factor in they had a blood bond, did you?”

Silva’s eyes widen slightly. “The scars on their palms.”

“A powerful spell. It gave Alec back his mind. He fought you in the end, didn’t he?”

“He didn’t want to throw the knife. You finished him off though.”

“I simply put him to sleep. He isn’t dead. And James won’t die either. You’ve failed.”

“I still live. And while I live, I will always come after him.”

Q places his hand on Silva’s chest, locating the man’s magic. “Human… all this time, just a human.” He breathes slowly and begins to manipulate Silva’s magic. “You wanted power?” he asks, his voice layering as the spell takes shape. “Very well. You shall be immortal, a mage able to live to the end of time but with a few, small adjustments.”

He rips his hand back and Silva screams; the man’s left cheek caves in, teeth and jawbone falling from his face and onto the ground, only to be regrown and rebuilt, leaving the man looking the same as he had moments before. His fingers are next, imploding on themselves only to regrow. “What… have you… done?”

“You have your magic, but I’ve altered it. It will continuously destroy your body one piece at a time, only to fix and regrow what it has broken. But it won’t do to have you screaming so. You’ll draw attention.” Q mimes a sideways pulling motion and Silva goes white as a sheet. His mouth slides to the side of his face, all the way to his ear and then _tears_ , falling to the ground in a shower of black ash. The man looks back at Q with no mouth left as his eyeball fills with blood and falls out, only to regrow.

“You are _nothing_ but a bottom feeder. You are the lowest of the low, taking a man’s parents, isolating him, destroying everything he loves and holds dear. Death is _too good_ for the likes of you, snake. Be gone, and slither where no one will ever find you.” With a final wave of his hand, Q sends Silva to the farthest, coldest ocean he can find, weighting the mage’s body to sink all the way to the bottom to rot.

Q turns back to where James lies on the field. He walks to the king and kneels beside him, gently touching his arm. He lets the spell fade, lets the world resume its normal speed. He can hear screaming, can smell blood, but he only has eyes for James. The man’s breathing is labored and he’s bleeding heavily. Q knows what he has to do and he has to work fast.

“You!” He points to the men with a stretcher. “Carry him back to his chambers. Now. Mallory, end the tournament. I will accompany the king and see what can be done.”

“Q… will he live?”

 _Yes, but not how you think or want_. “I don’t know. I’m going to try. Get these people out of here.”

He turns and follows James as the medics carry him back to the castle and up to his chambers. Q sends the medics to fetch Tanner before closing the doors. Freezing time again is easy now with his emotions so close to the surface, and he surrounds just the king’s room with the spell. He makes James’s armor vanish and climbs onto the bed to sit beside the dying man.

“Well… so much for… being worthy…” James tries for a joke but winds up coughing, blood in his mouth.

“We don’t have time. James, listen to me. You can be like me. Immortal. Vampire. The kingdom will mourn your loss, but I promise you that England will prevail. I can explain everything once you’re healed, but this is the only way… I don’t want to live in the world if you aren’t in it.”

“Q… it’ll be fine.”

“ _No_! I won’t let you die. Please James.” He trembles, clutching the man’s hand. “Don’t be a martyr. I know who killed your parents.”

Q can see the spark in James’s eyes at those words. “If I make it, you’ll explain everything?”

“I swear it on my-my love for you.”

The king actually has the audacity to smirk at that. “I knew you couldn’t resist me.”

“You utter bastard.” Q chokes out a laugh before biting his own wrist and holding it up to James’s lips. “Drink.”

The king takes a tentative lick, then groans as he clutches Q’s wrist to his lips and drinks deeply. The vampire moans in pleasure and strokes James’s hair; he’d forgotten how good it feels to receive the bite in the months away from Drac. Once he can see James’s flesh begin to knit back together, Q leans forward and bites his lover’s neck, drinking slowly, waiting until he can taste his own blood before healing the wounds.

“Q… am I dying?”

“Only for a short while. Until nightfall. You’re dying so you can live, my love.”

“Knew you’d… protect me… my Q…” James’s blue eyes flutter closed, and Q can feel the moment he ceases breathing. He has to remind himself that James is fine, he’s changing, transforming, but it’s hard.

He stands, cleaning them up and casting a simple glamour over James to make him look injured. He’s pale from the blood loss anyway, going colder by the minute. Q conjures his armor back in place, fitting it all together effortlessly. His magic is right at his fingertips now, so easy to use. He removes the time spell and slowly opens the doors.

What had only taken moments for him had taken the rest of the world maybe twenty minutes. Mallory and the guards are standing outside the door, Tanner with them. He meets the apothecary’s gaze, and the man can see it on Q’s face. The vampire turns to Mallory and shakes his head.

“The king is dead.”


	9. New Chance at Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When James wakes, there's only one thing left to solve: Alec's sleeping spell.

The first thing James is aware of when he wakes is a scratching in his throat. It itches, like he’s parched, and his mouth feels dry. When he tries to swallow, it starts to burn and he groans with the pain.

“Shhhh, don’t move just yet. Let your body adjust.”

He knows that voice. Slowly, James opens his eyes and looks up into Q’s face, only the vampire looks different now than he had before. James can see every little detail and imperfection in Q’s smooth skin, can make out even the tiniest hints of wrinkles that he’s never noticed before. F anything, he’s infinitely more beautiful… and James can see all of this in the pitch black chamber. “I can see… I can see well. What happened? I-I remember…”

Q holds his wrist to James’s lips. “I can’t bring you someone to feed on just yet, so take a few mouthfuls from me.”

Something in his mouth aches, and James opens his lips to feel two sharp fangs descending from his upper gums. The memories from his last moments of life come trickling back, and his eyes widen. “You turned me,” he murmurs, wanting to say more but the thirst wins out. He bites Q’s wrist and groans as the blood flows over his tongue. It tastes even better now than it had that morning, but it’s not as filling. It does help take the edge off his thirst, but he’s not completely satisfied.

“I did turn you, yes. I knew it as the only way to save your life.” He strokes his fingers through James’s hair to soothe him. “It was Silva, the one behind it all. But he won’t hurt you again. I’ve taken care of him so he can never harm anyone again.”

The new vampire licks the wound at Q’s wrist like he’d seen, watching at it ceases to bleed. Q heals it with a touch of his finger and smiles at his lover. “The kingdom is in mourning. Your human self died today. Silva’s magic, until today, was more powerful than my own. I couldn’t save you completely. Please don’t be angry.”

James watches him carefully before leaning in to kiss him, holding him close. “I’m not angry. Not at all. Did I really try and convince you to let me die?”

“Yes. I almost strangled you for it.”

“I’m sorry. I am very thirsty though.”

“In a moment. I’ll bring you one of the castle prisoners to eat.”

“Take me with you. Keep us shielded. Or will that drain you too much?”

Q shakes his head. “When I faced Silva, something inside me snapped. Whatever hold or control existed on my magic is gone now. It no longer drains me to use. But as a vampire, you can travel by shadows which is infinitely more fun.” He takes James’s hand and helps him stand, leading him into one of the dark corners of his chamber. “Imagine your body turning into shadow and then follow me. Don’t let go.”

James obeys and watches fascinated as their bodies transform, and he follows Q through the shadows of the castle down to the dungeon. “That’s incredible. Amazing.”

“It’s only slightly slower than instant transportation, but it’s also a great way to make an entrance.” Q leads James into the cells, choosing one of the stronger prisoners who was awaiting execution for murder. “You’ll need to drain him. It’ll help you get strong, especially since you’re a newborn.”

Bond’s eyes glow red as he looks at the prisoner, and Q keeps him from crying out when James attacks. It’s a bit messy, but it’s better than when Q had first fed after being turned; he’d managed to rip the peasant’s throat clean out. The murderer quiets down after James has taken a few sips, and in a matter of minutes, the man is completely drained of blood. The blond lets the corpse fall to the floor and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’re right. That’s much better.”

“Animal blood will work in a pinch, but it’s like eating a single bite of boar when you’ve been starving for days.” Q helps clean the blood off James’s skin. “There. All better. We need to get out of here soon, before we’re discovered.”

“We need to get Alec.”

“James-”

“No. I absolutely refuse to leave him behind. It’s not happening.”

“I know. All right, come on then.” He takes James’s hand again and leads him through the shadows to Alec’s room. The man is still sleeping, but his burns look much better, just about fully healed. Q places his hand on Alec’s brow and murmurs a few soft words. “Wake, arise. It’s time now, Alec. Come back to us. You’re safe, you and James both are safe.”

The man groans as he surfaces from his magically induced sleep, cracking one eye open and staring straight at James. “You look like shit,” he croaks, coughing as the blond helps him sip from the goblet of fresh water by his bed.

“Yes, but I’m now officially more handsome than you are.”

“And what makes you think that?”

James just winks and helps Alec finish the water. “You’re likely to break a mirror if you come anywhere near one.”

“Now that’s just cruel.” He notices Q then, smiling at the vampire. “I don’t remember much recently. How long have I been asleep?”

“Please don’t freak out,” Q murmurs, taking Alec’s hand. “But you’ve been asleep for more than a month. You’ve been out of commission for two. The one responsible for the attacks on James was a mage. He ensnared your mind and tried to use you against him. But the man is now long gone. He’ll be in pain for the rest of his days. I ensured it.”

The human stares back at Q, struggling to comprehend everything the clever man is saying. Slowly, he raises a hand to his own face and feels the burns, tracing them. “I remember… I do remember fire. There was a fight… and then I was burning but you were there. I could hear your voice.”

“It’s my fault you fell, but I did everything in my power to ensure you recovered. Since I couldn’t determine who was responsible for the attack, I put you to sleep to keep you safe.” He quickly explains the rest, including James’s injury and, finally, what he is. Alec demands proof, so Q and James both show him their fangs.

“Well that’s just not fair.” Alec does his best to grin at them both. “It’ll be an awfully lonely life now.”

“Q, we are not leaving him behind.”

“And where do you propose we hide while he changes? It takes until the following sunset from the moment of the blood exchange.”

“Do I get a say in any of this?”

“Q, we _aren’t-_ ”

“James, I’m not suggesting we leave him. We just need a plan. As it is, I don’t know how we are going to explain your body’s disappearance. And then there’s the matter of succession.”

“Which we can sort out while Alec changes. Come on, Q. Surely your chambers will work.”

The vampire nods with a heavy sigh. “All right. Carry Alec”

“Oi, I can walk you know.”

“Perhaps, but it’s easier if James is holding you.”

Bond lifts Alec into his arms in something closely resembling a bridal carry. “Are we married now?”

“Oh shut up, you prat.”

Q touches James’s arm and transports them all to his chamber. “And that’s why.”

Both Bond and Trevelyan are a little dizzy and need a moment to breathe and recover from the spell. Q takes that time to secure the room from all sunlight, explaining vampire weaknesses as he does. “I have plenty of precaution spells on myself, but I will need time to cast them on the both of you as well. If we all are going to live forever, I refuse to even risk losing either one of you.”

“James, I think he cares.”

“He’s already confessed his love for me.”

“Well then I’ll have to work doubly hard to make sure he falls for me as well, won’t I?”

Q swallows, fighting back a wave of desire, refusing to indulge in it until both his men have been fully transformed and protected. “Lie down, Alec. Would you like James to transform you or me?”

“I can’t have both?”

James snorts and perches on the mattress. “That’s Alec for you. I think we should indulge him this one.”

“It only works from a straight up exchange. Each vampire only has a single creator. Otherwise I would.” Q sits on the human’s other side, taking his hand and kissing his wrist while Bond does the same with Alec’s left hand. “Do you want to be his creator or me?”

“I rather like you being the creator for both of us. Then we can both be your boys.”

Q grins and kisses James before pressing another kiss to Alec’s wrist. “Very well.”

“So he can kiss you and I don’t get to?”

“Would you like a kiss, Alec?”

“Yes please.”

Q laughs, grinning at Alec’s teasing impertinence and leans in to press his lips gently to the guard’s. “There. Now.” The vampire makes a small cut on his own wrist and presses the bloody line to Alec’s lips. “Drink. It’s all right.”

Alec begins to drink from Q while he leans against the James. The blond presses kisses to his best friend’s temple and holds him close through it all: Q biting Alec’s neck, the full blood exchange, and Alec closing his eyes as his heart stops and his body turns cold while he transforms.

“Will his burns heal?”

“I don’t know. They might, but we’ll know by tomorrow night. What are we going to do, James? Is there an heir? Any relative at all?”

“I think I have a cousin… Henry. He’s the closest there is since I’m the last of my line now.”

“I’ll figure out a way to let Mallory know. I think I’m going to have to do something with a memory spell in order to explain it all. It’s just such a huge mess. How did you handle the smell of the blood?”

“I wanted it. A lot. But it’s also Alec and I’m not going to hurt him or lose my mind to the point that I ruin it. You told me you don’t want to live without me. I don’t want to live without Alec.”

“And I understand that. I want to properly get to know the _both_ of you, more than just passing flirting. And once he wakes we will have all the time in the world. Now. Hold still while I work on a sun protection spell for both of you.”

***

By the following nightfall, Q is wishing he could sleep again. He’s spent the past twenty-four hours working on protection spells, teaching James how to shadow travel, creating a spell to modify the memory of everyone in the castle, and leaving messages for Mallory where he will find them about the heir to the throne. He’s currently raiding the treasure, packing a few bags filled with gold and gems that they can use to start a new life, and then he heads into the armory to get weapons, namely daggers and swords for all three of them. By the time he returns to the room, Alec is sitting up and blinking as he adjusts to having perfect night vision. Q notes silently that the burn scars did not heal, though he doesn’t really mind. Alec looks even more handsome like this if that’s possible. “How’re you feeling?”

“Thirsty. Is that normal?”

James chuckles and lets Alec take a few sips to help with the immediate thirst. “I’ll take him to feed.”

“Oh no. I’m coming with you both. I trust you James, but I don’t want any of us getting caught. Once Alec feeds, we can gear up and leave. I’d like to get as close to the coast as we can tonight.”

“Why? Where are we going?”

“I’m bringing you both to meet my creator.”

***

“No way. This is where you lived?”

“Were you not listening any of the times I told you that Drac is descended from Romanian royalty?”

“I was… but this is a bloody huge castle.”

“Getting homesick there, Alec?”

“Not on your life, James.”

“Will both quit bickering for two seconds?” Q knocks three times on the heavy oaken doors, grinning when they swing inward to admit them. “Drac!” He runs to the old vampire and hugs him tightly. “I brought two new vampires back with me. James, Alec, meet Dracula. You can call him Vlad as well if you like. He’s technically Vlad of the house Dracul.”

James and Alec both bow as they greet the vampire, suddenly aware of their youth as compared to him.

“Q, you’ve chosen well. And I can see you’re their creator as well.” He touches James’s left shoulder where the lance had pierced it. “This one was gravely injured,” he murmurs, turning to Alec and running a long, pale finger down the burns on Trevelyan’ face. “Did you choose not to heal these?”

“It’s Alec’s choice. I think he likes them.”

“They keep me distinguished.”

James and Q both snort with laughter, and Alec fixes them with a bemused stare. Dracula’s lip twitches in a bit of a smirk. “A fine trio, the lot of you. I went hunting earlier, have several strays I brought back if you’re hungry.”

“I’m parched.”

“Same.”

“Strays?”

“It’s all right, James. Drac taught me if you stay in one place, you should hunt for people who are left on their own or orphaned or who have no family left. People who won’t be missed. And you both have felt the bite, you know how nice it feels, even if you both were too weak to properly enjoy the transforming bite. But we’re here now. Drac can help you come into your full powers as vampires. I was thinking we could stay here for a bit, let the world forget us while we decide how we want to live.”

Alec shrugs. “Sounds good to me. Where’s the food?”

James laughs and claps his best friend on the shoulder. “I think that’s your answer, Q.”

***

It takes barely a week for them to start finding an easy routine. Dracula teaches James and Alec for a few hours after sundown, then they feed if needs be. Q usually finds them at that point and takes them on tours of the surrounding woods, the castle, anywhere they want to go. He and James share the occasional kiss, but he has not shared the man’s bed since before his change. He stays away now out of respect for Alec but he misses James; for all the teasing and games before everything had gone south, Alec has never made good on his flirting. Q starts to wonder, when a second week passes, if everything has changed too much.

They’re walking back to the castle after a late night run when they begin to talk about it. James and Alec are absolutely delighted with how quickly they can move and with their improved reflexes as well. Running under the light of the room gives them a rush unlike anything they’ve felt before. As usual, James and Alec are bickering and laughing, teasing each other while Q walks a few paces behind, watching and wanting but saying nothing.

“What has you so glum, little one?”

He looks up to see both men watching him, blue and green eyes fixed on him. “I… I’m not glum.”

“Q, don’t lie. You’ve been very quiet since we left England except to tell us about this country or chastise us for being idiots.”

“Well you are, sometimes. I guess… I guess it’s that when we fell into bed together, James, Alec wasn’t part of it. And now that he’s better and we’re all immortal that I’m-I’m not sure what you both want.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Alec says, holding out his hand. “We both want you. We were giving you space because of everything that’s happened. You’ve been so quiet. Is it because of Silva?”

“No. No I-it sounds stupid now. I wasn’t sure you both would want me. You have a much stronger claim over James than I do, Alec.” He holds up the man’s hand and strokes down the scar on his palm. “You both have been blood brothers your whole lives.”

“Q, you’re the one who brought us into this new life. You hold a claim over us both now.”

“Is that your way of saying you’re interested in the three of us together?”

James grins. “I suppose you could put it that way. Though I’m a bit surprised you didn’t say something sooner. You know what I feel for you, Q.”

“But I didn’t-don’t know if Alec does as well. You can’t blame me for being cautious.”

“Q. We are both absolutely smitten with you. And you’ve saved us both. We would be utter fools to give up someone as amazing as you.”

“I know you don’t know me as well, little one, but if what James tells me is anything to go by, I very much want you in our bed. And we’re strong enough now that I bet we could restrain you for your pleasure. And ours.”

Q’s eyes darken at the thought, and before he can argue, James pulls him into a bruising, overwhelming kiss. Neither one of them has to be careful or hold back or breathe, so the blond easily slips his tongue into Q’s mouth to lick and tease. Q loses all sense of time as James kisses him quite thoroughly, but then he’s being spun around and Alec claims his mouth. The former guard is a little slower in his build, keeping it chaste for all of five seconds before teasing Q’s lips apart and then it’s like he’s set a fire burning in the older vampire’s belly. He groans into the kiss and presses up against Alec as James begins kissing his neck and grinding slowly against his arse.

“We should bring this back to the castle, don’t you think?” James murmurs against Q’s ear.

Alec breaks the kiss long enough to scoop Q into his arms with a grin. “Oh I think so. This young thing is in desperate need of a good, thorough fucking.”

“Oh fuck, don’t just stand there!”

James and Alec practically fly back to the castle, rushing up to their room with their precious cargo. As soon as they close the door, their mouths are on Q once more while they strip him bare. To Q’s annoyance, James and Alec stay far too clothed for his liking, but when he tries to help, they smack his hands away. In fact, he tries it again and Alec pulls Q’s wrists back and up, out of the way while James kisses down his chest to his nipples. “Now, Alec, he loves when you do this.” James flicks his tongue over Q’s left nipple first, and the vampire arches with a keening whine.

“You’re right. He _does_ like that.”

“You both-you’re infuriating. This isn’t fair!”

James takes the other nipple in his teeth and tugs; Q’s legs give out and only Alec’s iron grip on his wrists keeps him aloft. He whimpers as James continues the sweet torture with his mouth, squirming between the two vampires and harder than he’s ever been before.

“James, James please, don’t tease me so. Oh fuck…”

“And he swears. Oh James why did we wait so long?”

“Space, remember? Besides, you weren’t sure if he wanted your burned arse.”

“Hey! It’s my face and he likes it.”

“Yes… your do have rather a handsome arse, Alec.”

“Thank you, James. Now I want to get undressed. Hold him.”

James takes over restraining Q so that he and the older vampire can watch as Alec rips his clothes off, leaving the shredded fabric on the floor of the chamber. Q hungrily drinks in the sight of Alec's naked body. The man is still quite fit, muscled and strong with his beauty, if anything, enhanced by his burns and the few smaller scars from sword fighting. Q had known neither man would want to lose those scars when they transformed; the mark on James's shoulder from the lance is actually rather beautiful, almost like a small explosion or a star. "How are you both still so composed?"

Alec walks forward and pulls Q into another kiss while his hand manages to gently stroke their cocks together. "Because we have shared lovers before and know how to draw it out." He turns Q around so they can watch James strip; the former king is every bit as handsome as Alec from his head to his gloriously thick cock. Q wants to touch, to taste, but Alec keeps him restrained instead while James sinks to his knees and nuzzles Q'a erection. 

The vampire's head falls back with a whimper as James begins to lick and suck and lightly blow on his cock, all the while not using his hands. Alec's mouth is at his neck to nip and suck at the flesh to pull more desperate moans from Q's mouth, and after ten minutes of this, he's positive he will lose his mind. "You-both-suck," he groaned. 

"Oh my, James I think we do."

"Really?"

"Yes. We suck because we're vampires!"

"You did not just say that." Q groans at just how terrible the joke is while James and Alec maneuver him onto the bed. James swipes the oil pot while Alec settles himself against the headboard with Q's back against his chest. 

"Here's what we're thinking. James is going to open you up, show me all the things you like. I'll hold you close while he fucks your gorgeous body until he comes. Then he gets to hold you while I have my way. And then, only then, will you be allowed to come. And you'll do so while we both drink from you."

Q whimpers then, eyes blown black with lust as he feels James's fingers push past the first ring of muscle and into his body. He arches against Alec and squirms, but the larger vampire easily holds him still. Alec buries a hand in Q's hair, tugging his head to the side so he can suck on his neck. James watches them with hungry eyes as he stretches Q with two fingers, adding a third only when he reaches the smaller vamp's prostate. Q shrieks and trembles eagerly, and only James's hand squeezing the base of his cock keeps him in check. The blond then proceeds to torture Q with his fingers, rubbing and pressing and setting off sparks behind Q's eyelids. 

"Please. Fucking please! I need you. Now. James!"

James smirks and withdraws his fingers so he can slick up his cock, and Q whines at the loss, feeling empty.

"Don't close your eyes," Alec growls in Q's ear as James lines up. "Show him how much you want this"

Q forces his eyes to stay open as James slowly buries himself inside Q's body. The vampire's mouth goes slack with pleasure, head tipping back against Alec's shoulder. "Fuck," he whimpers. "That's so good, oh fuck."

James growls and snaps his hips, too eager to draw it out much longer. He slams into Q as roughly as he can manage, and it's even better than when he's been human. He's much more aware of sensations and pleasure as a vampire, and he knows Q enjoys it too. Alec has Q's wrists trapped again while they watch James work, and the look of unbridled need and pleasure and want on Q's face is enough to drive James wild all over again.

"Alec, Alec I need-I need help. I can't hold out."

The brown-haired vampire smirks and reaches down to squeeze the base of Q's cock just as James rams his prostate hard enough to stop all rational though. Q's screams echo in the chamber as the blond loses control and fills up his lover with his seed. Alec’s hand helps keep him from losing himself in orgasm as well, and he whimpers at the denial.

“Oh fuck Alec. Wait until you try him. I don’t think we’ll ever want anyone else again.”

If Q could blush, he would be as James slowly pulls out and helps Q up onto his hands and knees. Alec runs his thumb down over Q’s hole, stretching him open ever so slightly before slicking up his cock and pressing into the vampire. “Ohhhhhhh you weren’t bloody joking. He’s wonderfully tight even after a good fucking.”

James grins and kisses Q lazily as Alec grips his hips and begins thrusting into him. Q yelps a little each time Alec sinks into him, painfully aroused at this point and whining into James’s mouth as the blond kisses him. “I don’t miss having to breathe,” he purrs before yanking Q’s hair and baring his neck. “I can kiss you as long as I like now.”

“And you’re a very talented kisser.”

“What am I, boar entrails?” Alec teases as he speeds up and slams into Q’s prostate with frightening accuracy. Q arches and cries out in pleasure, his body tingling now with how badly he needs release, but James just reaches down and squeezes, preventing Q from achieving any relief while Alec uses him mercilessly. All too soon (yet not soon enough somehow), Alec comes and pours into Q, panting a little and grinning. “I’m not broken of my human habits yet.”

“Well… the breathing will help you… blend in among humans… oh fuck please please please let me come. _Please_.”

James smirks and starts by helping clean up Q from where he and Alec have quite ruined the poor creature. Then he starts to stroke Q’s cock while sucking on his neck. “When we both have bitten you and start to drink-”

“Then you get to come for us. And don’t hold back.”

Q nods, shivering when he feels their fangs scrape against his skin. Alec and James then, without warning, bite at the same time, flooding Q with toe curling desire and pleasure. Both of his lovers have a hand in his hair and a hand on his cock, and when he comes, he screams so loud that the windows in their room shatter. James and Alec burst out laughing, pulling away from Q’s neck as they cradle their thoroughly fucked lover in their arms.

“What… what happened?”

“Black out there?”

“Maybe… I heard something break.”

Alec smirks. “The windows, little one. I think we’ll have glass to clean up later.”

“Right. Later.” Q closes his eyes and snuggles closer to James and Alec who clean him up and then hug him close.

“I think we should try another blood bond in the morning.”

“I agree. I don’t mind a new scar if you think we can find something strong enough to cut our skin.”

“Silver might,” Q mumbles, close to actually falling asleep for the first time in almost a century.

“Sleep if you can, little one.”

“We’ve got you, Q. You’re ours now.”

“Ours forever.”

And Q slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's only one chapter left, something of an epilogue.


	10. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because where else would they end up? Really.

_8 August 2016. More than five centuries later…_

 

“No, on your _right_ , 007! Open your eyes!”

“They _are_ open. I see it.”

“To be fair, James, you really didn’t. Taken care of.”

“Well aren’t you lucky that 006 is on the roof with a sniper rifle.”

“How many successful missions have I been on?”

“Do you want the list where you came back unscathed or the list where you’ve nearly died horribly?”

“Ah. I see.”

They’ve been working at MI6 for the better part of the last decade. With Q’s magical knowhow and, since the information age, his uncanny ability to pick up any technology and not only make it work better than it’s designed to but to also improve on it and James and Alec’s affinities for fighting and stealth, it was a no brainer really. James and Alec swiftly qualified for the double-oh program, and Q secured his position with the retirement of Major Boothroyd. A well placed bite and hypnotic suggestion helped matters along quite smoothly. Q had perfected the sunlight and wood protection charms several centuries prior. All three of them could easily masquerade as human, albeit two humans with an innate sense of how to attract trouble and one human with near “magical” tech abilities.

“Mallory will have my balls if you pull another stunt like that again, 007.”

“Aw, come on Q. Make an exception just this once.”

“Only if you bring your Walther back in one piece.”

“Oh… About that…”

The coms crackle as Alec bursts out laughing before making a perfect headshot. “Take that, James. I’m clearly the better agent.”

“No, you’re worse than Bond, Trevelyan. Don’t make me give you another dressing down for setting the bloody _hotel_ on fire!”

“Hey! It was structurally unsound!”

“And how many times have you used that as an excuse?”

“Is the answer too many?”

“I’m under fire, making my way to the rendezvous.”

“Please do try to lose them on the way. I would hate for them to follow you back to the extraction team.”

“That was _one time_.”

“One time is too many. It should be no times. I don’t know how Mallory lets either of you out into the field anymore.”

“Our devilish good looks?”

“Our charisma and charm?”

“I would say it’s because the pair of you are complete numpties, but I don’t think you’ll listen to me right now. He’ll be furious that I’m unable to manage you.”

“There was no way for you to know that sleeper agents were part of their ranks.”

“That did complicate matters, yes. But I’m your Quartermaster. I should expect these things.”

Another thug falls to Alec’s rifle. “This advanced scope is fucking perfect, Q. I could kiss you.”

“Yes, I should hope so. I’m rather looking forward to that when you return.”

“Hey, what about me?”

“Get back in one piece, 007, and I’ll consider it.”

“You know you love us too much to stay mad.”

“God help me, I do.”

“I didn’t think you believed in a higher power.”

“I don’t, but it’s what people say, isn’t it? Now get home, both of you, and I’ll make sure dinner is waiting.”

“Oh I hope that means you’re dinner.”

“Ooooo yes. I second that idea.”

“You are impossible. Contact me when you reach the rendezvous.”

“Will do, 006 out.”

“007 signing off for now.”

Q sits back at his terminal and watches the satellite and infrared feeds of Rome and chuckles to himself. They may be trouble magnets, but they are completely and utterly his. And they have an eternity of adventures still ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we've made it! Thank you to those of you who read it update to update, and to those of you who stumbled upon it finished, thank you for reading! Reviews are encouraged and always welcome. I love to hear what you think.
> 
> Until the next story!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Illustration for Be The One You Bleed](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14190546) by [procoffeinating](https://archiveofourown.org/users/procoffeinating/pseuds/procoffeinating)




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